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by monims



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:46:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 109,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7571248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monims/pseuds/monims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Padme survives at the end of Revenge of the sith. Set approximately 4 years later, she is alone with her twins in hiding, as a memory of the past comes back to haunt her. Will later be Vader/Anakin and Padme story.  Its for those romantic hearts out there like me, but also with plenty of angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A happy memory

The first thing she did when she entered her apartment was to kick of her shoes, after wearing them all day they had started to pinch her toes. Picking them up, she carried them towards the living room, the floor cooling her bare feet. It took her a moment to realise the light was on. Rushing forward her heart did a leap when she spotted him relaxing on the sofa.

He had taken of his leather tunic and belt, leaving him with only with his black under tunic, and pants. When he spotted her, his face transformed with joy as he smiled.  His golden hair had grown longer than since the last time they met, and he looked more beautiful than she remembered.

Throwing her shoes away, not caring where they landed, she threw herself at him, assaulting him with kisses. Anakin laughed out loud, and she could feel the rumble in his chest, as she pushed her head towards the warm fabric of his tunic, half sitting on top of him. Gently he wrapped her in his arms, and she relished just the simple scent of him.

“I did not expect you back so soon” she said, leaning back a bit so she could see his face.

“I wanted it to be a surprise” he said, smiling down at her. One hand stroking up and down her back.

“You should have told me. I would have snuck out of the meeting earlier.”

“Since when do you skip out on any of your obligations?” he asked, and she knew it was true, she had a tendency to be a stickler for the rules sometimes. So unlike him, who was always breaking them.

“I wish I had today, it seemed never to end. And Senator Vale is a sleaze, more occupied by his own power than the once he claims to serve” She sighed, moving of him to sit close on the sofa, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Are you saying politics are boring?” he said in mock horror, putting a hand to his chest. “Who would have believed it!” She slapped him gently and he grinned at her. Just the sight of his face made all her worries disappear for a moment.

“Sometimes I wish I had your powers, so I could wipe the foul smile of his face, as he delegates more power to himself, while his people suffer. I swear he his corrupt, but I have no proof”

“So many politicians are these days” he said with a frown, his smile vanishing as he stared into nothing, she did not like it when he did that. Luckily it did not last, and he turned his attention back to her, a mischievous look on his face. “Do you want me to sneak into the senate and throw rotten fruit at his face, when no one is looking. Or better yet when he is having a speech, because I totally would you know”

She laughed, imaging fruit appearing out of nowhere as rotten missiles pelting Vale, and the look on his face in sheer embarrassment. Anakin hiding somewhere out of sight.

“Tempting, but what would Obi Wan say to such frivolous use of the force.” She said, when she managed to stop laughing.

“He needs to relax” he said giving her a quick kiss. “And so do you”

“Do you have anything specific in mind General Skywalker?” she asked, while pulling teasingly at his tunic.

His eyes grew warm. “Hmm, my lady, I think you are the one with something on your mind” he replied in a soft voice, leaning down and giving her a proper kiss this time. One that nearly left her breathless.

“I am just glad you are home. I hope you can stay a while this time.” After loosening her dress, a bit at the back, so she could be more comfortable, she let him put her head in his lap.

“I am all yours for two whole weeks” he replied, softly stroking her hair. The soothing motion draining some of the stress from her body, as she stretched out on the sofa.

“I am glad. I have missed you so much.” For a moment she closed her eyes, as his hand started to massage her scalp, making her sleepy.

“I have missed you to Padme” he said, repeating the gentle motion over and over again.

“Sometime I worry you won’t come home to me at all, that one day you will die out there, and I wouldn’t even know would I.” Opening her eyes, she sat back up, so she could look into his eyes.  “To the galaxy I am not your wife, a friend maybe but nothing more.”

“You are my wife” he said intently, cupping her face with both his hands. Without his gloves his metal hand felt cold to the touch, but his human one was warm, its thumb gently stroking her cheek. “I know it, and you know it, and we are the only once that matter.”

She nodded, giving him a small smile, putting her hands above his where they cradled her face.

“There is a species of bird, native to Tatooine, that travels miles upon miles away from home every year. Yet no matter how far they travel, or for how long, they always find their way home. Like drawn by an invisible beacon. You are my beacon Padme, and no matter where I go, or how far, your light will always guide me home. This I promise you.”

She blinked, desperately wanting to believe him, but war was a cruel thing. It took so many, way too soon, and those who were left behind were often changed forever.

Anakin let go of her face, and got to his feet offering her his hand. Taking it, he helped her up.

“Now enough of this dreary talk, dear wife. I have other more fun things on my mind” he said teasingly, his words dispelling the gloom. Moving forward he lifted her up into his arms, caught by surprised she squealed, making him laugh.

“Put me down Ani” she laughed, kicking her feet.

“Never” He replied, carrying her to the bedroom throwing her onto the bed, before following. Leaning down so he could kiss her again, their bodies pressed close.

* * *

 

Padme awoke and the memory slowly faded. Reaching a hand out across the bed, she half expected to find his warm body pressed up against hers, but there was nothing there now, except emptiness. Rolling around so she was lying on her back, she stared up at the dark ceiling. She felt alone, more alone than she had ever been. Part of her could still not accept that he was gone, that he would not find his way back to her like he had promised. But it had been a lie, he hadn’t come back, not this time, and now he never would.

Blinking back tears, she sat up. Her sadness receded and anger took its place. Anakin would never come back because he had chosen power of her. Over their children. His choice had condemned them all, leaving nothing but bitterness behind. Except Luke and Leia, who was the light that kept her going. For them she would endure.

Wrapping herself in a robe, she left the bed heading into the corridor. When she found the right door she opened it carefully. It was still the middle of the night and she didn’t want to wake them.

A beam of light from the corridor lit the room, and she could see Leia was fast asleep, tucked safely in her bed. Luke on the other had had pushed his duvet of, as he was sleeping. Tip toeing into the room, she walked quietly to his bed, tucking him in before kissing his forehead very softly.

Anakin may had extinguished his own light, but some of it remained through their children, and she would guard it with her life. Walking away from Luke, she approached Leia’s bed, who had opened her eyes staring at her.

“Is something wrong mummy?” she asked sleepily.

“No, sweetheart” She replied, stroking Leia’s hair away from her face. “You go back to sleep”

Leia nodded with a yawn, closing her eyes trustingly. Not knowing anything about the dark secrets her mother kept from her. As Padme closed the door behind her, with one last look at her growing children, she could only hope they would never have to find out.


	2. Enough

“And you are certain no one else knows of this?”  His masters voice was shrill, he was angry, that much was obvious, but he never raised his voice, never, that was not his style. Vader lifted his head from his kneeling position on the floor, not certain why _he_ had been summoned for this.

“No one, master. They have all been disposed of, except the prisoner, and he knows nothing. “he told him. For most it had been quick, the other had suffered. He had made sure of that.

The Emperor turned his back to him, walking over to the window, staring out at the cityscape of the Imperial Center. Once Coruscant, but those days were long gone now.

“Good, I will not tolerate failure like this again” Vader frowned beneath his mask, his master’s foresight rivalled anyone he had ever known. Surely he would already know if anyone knew, or if there was a faithless servant. So why did call him in to deal with such a minor matter? Leave that to lesser men.

“I will have the prisoner terminated at once” And let that be the end of it. He urged to leave this place, get back out there, where he would be of some real use.

“No, my old friend, not yet” The Emperor replied, turning away from the window and the busy traffic beyond, walking towards him, now smiling. “I want you to make an example of him. Let the galaxy know the price of treachery” Lifting his hand he indicated for Vader to rise.

“What is your bidding my master?” The Emperors smile widened, wrinkling his face even more than usual. No longer angry, but pleased.

“I doubt I have to tell you my old friend, you know what to do” Vader nodded, and with that he was dismissed. Leaving the throne room, he indicated to his men as he went. They followed without hesitation, falling in line behind him, as he headed directly for the hangar.

The emperor was right. Vader did know what to do. Any act of rebellion must be stomped out with force, before it spread. His anger sparked just at the thought, and he revelled in it.

Martyrs were all too eager to die for their cause. Death was just another accomplishment. To truly break someone like that, you hurt those they loved the most.

Vader boarded the shuttle, his star destroyer already awaiting in orbit.  The planet they were headed to was insignificant to the empire. Still, he would have to see to this personally.

As the ramp closed behind him, an unbidden thought entered his mind, that he knew all too well what a threat to a loved one could do to someone. Hissing he did not let it linger. Drawing instead on the dark, cleansing his mind, until his eyes glowed as hot as his saber when lit.

* * *

 

Padme walked away from the twin’s room, pulling her robe closer around her trying to drive away a sudden chill. Even though she knew they were safe, she had needed to see them with her own eyes, just to make sure. Because there was always a part of her that worried, that was terrified he would find them.

She was tired, so very tired of living like this, always looking over her shoulder. Knowing that against such a force of nature as he was, she was helpless to protect them. Secrecy was her only weapon, that and Obi Wan, and she worried for him as well. Now he was merely a pale imitation of who he had once been, they both were.

Because in the end, the fires of Mustafar had burned them all. Yet somehow they had risen from the ashes. Though in truth sometimes she wondered, if they had not all died there, and now were only ghosts wandering aimlessly about, desperately trying to find some meaning in it all. But in those weak moments, she would look over at Luke and Leia, and remember she was alive. Even if the world she had known was gone, she still had a purpose.

Yawning she walked past her bedroom, there was no point in trying to go back to sleep now, no matter how tired she felt. So instead she headed for the room just ahead. Typing the keyword into the panel by the door, for she always kept it locked. The twins were nothing if not curious, and what lay behind this particular door, she did not want their innocent eyes to see.

The first sight that greeted her when she turned on the light was her cluttered desk. In her time as queen, and later as senator her desk had always been meticulous, pristine even. Now she no longer cared. She still kept a clean house off course, to teach her children a good example. But within the walls of this room there was nothing but a mess, much like herself, she mused.  Well hidden from outsiders, but here at least, she could throw away the brave mask, and finally be herself. Whoever that might be these days.

With a sigh she sat down in her chair. Scattered all across the top were datapads, and holo recordings. Any information about the empire Bail had been able to acquire. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much. The official information was pure propaganda, and to dig any deeper was dangerous.

Making herself comfortable she started to read and reread everything, until her eyes hurt. Just like she had done so many nights lately. She often gave Bail input of what he found, it was her only way of feeling useful, trapped as she was out here. There were some discrepancies in the supply line to the imperial navy, she made a note of it for further study. Though her information was far from adequate, she needed more to make sense of it.

Rubbing her eyes, she took another sip of her caf, she desperately needed sleep. However, sleep meant dreams, and dreams meant _him._ Right now she could not bear it, after the news she received this week, the wound Anakin had left behind felt extra sore.

Because every death that she could direct back to the empire, or to him _,_ felt like her heart breaking all over again, and now there was another one to add to the list. This one had been a friend, it hitting so close to home, made her feel so utterly helpless.

Frustrated she dropped the pad she was holding, letting her hand trace the outline of the desk until it reached the top drawer to her right. Though this room was off limits to the twins, she still kept the drawer locked, only ever opening in when she knew they were fast asleep. Now, after a brief battle with the lock, it sprung open with a click.

There it lay, his lightsaber. Obi Wan had given it to her when she was well enough, and she would never forget for as long as she may live, the utter anguish on his face as he did so. An echo of her own devastating pain.

Her hand hovered above it, but she did not pick it up, she never did. Though by Anakin’s own words it was hers, but so many of his words tasted like ashes these days. So instead she picked up a holo projector hidden in a corner beside it, putting it down on the desk in front of her.

It was only one of many she had seen. But still it hurt every time, and she knew she was performing some kind of self-torture by watching them. Yet she could not seem to help herself.

This specific recording was from an assembly. He was standing next to the emperor, arms folded across his chest.  She stretched a finger towards his helmet, but she knew if she touched it, it would pass straight through. He was untouchable, far beyond her reach, her love lost to the darkness.

Padme bit her lip to prevent herself from crying. Then she got angry at herself for wanting to weep in the first place, he had done this to them. This was all his fault, he was not worthy of her tears, not any more. 

Blurry eyes focused back on the holo, now the emperor was clearly talking, Vader turning his head towards his master as if listening. Though the recording had no sound, so she had no way of knowing what was being said. But it ended with Vader striding away, people scattering away from his path as he moved. They all looked terrified, and she knew they had good reason too. This was not a man. This was a ruthless monster. She had only looked into the eyes of that monster once, and she never wanted to do it again.

Leaning back in her chair she took one last look at his mask, wondering for the millionth time what hid beneath. Sometimes she would even pretend it was not him at all, but someone else. That her Anakin was dead, as much as that thought hurt, it was better than this. Angrily she turned it off, throwing it back into the drawer, slamming it shut. Enough with this Padme she told herself, this would not bring him back to her. Nothing ever would.

Her other hand was nervously twitching around her necklace. She had hardly noticed she had started playing with it.  Even now she still wore it, because a part of her she still loved him, and always would. Though she hated him as well.  An innocent boy with a kind heart had made it for her all those years ago, but where was his heart now?

“Mummy?” Luke’s voice asked sleepy from the door. Startled she turned towards him, grateful she had turned the holo off. Even if Luke would not know what he was looking at, she did not want him to see that thing.  His blond hair was sticking out at all angles, his large blue eyes looking curiously around the room.

“You know you are not supposed to be in here” She scolded softly, but she was far from angry. Just the sight of his young face, blew new life into her broken heart.

“I know mummy, but I am hungry” he said, while sneaking another peek around the room.

 Smiling she got her feet, morning already was it. “I will meet you in the kitchen, sweetheart. Now go” she added, pushing him gently out of the room. At the promise of food, he turned and ran in the direction of the kitchen. Giving her time to make sure everything was locked down tight. With relief she closed the door behind her, at least for the morning she would try to drive the dark image of Vader from her mind.

When she got the kitchen Luke was chatting happily with Threepio. Necessity had forced her to wipe the droid’s memories, storing them away to collect dust. Much like her own past, she thought bitterly.

“Ah greeting mistress Neve, ready for your breakfast?” the droid asked, turning his golden head towards her. It took her a while to respond, even though she had the new name for years, it still felt foreign.

“Yes please Threepio” she replied, picking Luke up sitting him down on her lap, running her fingers through his hair to sort out the mess. When she was satisfied he looked like a young boy and not a wookie, Leia came walking into the room.

“Daedre’s father is dead” she said solemnly, as she got seated. Padme swallowed, she already knew that off course, and had hoped to tell them herself. But apparently it was already too late. Now the empire had hurt someone the twins knew, that had been kind to them. When Padme put Luke onto his own chair, she felt her anger building. Taking a deep breath as she got seated again, she pushed it away, not wanting them to see her rage.

Leia was only fiddling with the food Threepio had offered her, she was so sensitive to the feeling of others, especially someone close to her.

“What do you say we go over there after breakfast, and bring Daedre and her mother something nice?” Padme asked, Leia’s face brightening at the idea of doing anything that might help. In those moments she reminded Padme of Anakin, which both hurt and comforted at the same time.

“Yes mummy” Luke chimed in, nodding his head enthusiastically. He was ever so sweet, always had been.

“Alright we have a plan then, but first you must eat your food” she told them, while forcing herself to do the same thing. Her appetite was rather poor lately, yet she knew she had to be strong, for all of them.

 

* * *

 

It was almost midday before she managed to urge them all out of their little house. 

The twins ran ahead of her. It was not far to so they had decided to walk. Mina, Daedre’s mother had been a great friend and help to Padme, when she first arrived here, a sniffling heartbroken mess. She had never asked Padme any uncomfortable questions, accepting her cover as grieving widow without pause.  Just helping her with the babies, having just had one herself. Her and her husband, Kieran. Together they had made her feel less alone.

Padme swallowed away a sneaking feeling of guilt, as she thought about the tall broad shouldered man, that had cared for Luke and Leia like they were his own. Now he was also dead, and she could not help but feel partly to blame for that.

The twins were already at the door when she got there, eager but uncertain. Padme could swear they could sense the grief emanating from inside the house, she could almost feel it herself.

Straightening her shoulders, one hand on the basket, she reached out and knocked. It took a while before anyone responded.  Mina opened the door, blinking in the early day sun, her eyes sunken and bloodshot.

“Hi” Padme said carefully, “I hope you don’t mind me coming over, or bringing the twins”

“Off course not Neve” she said in a weak voice, opening the door wide for them to enter. “Please come in. Daedre is in her room, I am sure she would like some company” This part she directed to the twins, who both nodded, clearly taking their comfort mission seriously. Because as soon as they were inside, they quickly headed in the direction of the poor girl’s room.

Padme stayed behind with Mina, giving her a warm hug, after she put her basket down. “We brought you a few things to make it easier” she said, leading a limp Mina to the sofa. “The twins picked out a few things for Daedre, they thought she might like. Mostly unhealthy I admit”

Mina gave her a small brave smile, “Thank you” she replied weakly, her eyes looking around the room with a vacant expression, before coming to a rest on the front door.

“I keep thinking he will come through that door any minute, and that this is all a bad dream” she whispered after a while. Padme reached out and grasped her hand, where it lay limply on the sofa.

“It will get better I promise you” she said, squeezing, hating herself for the lie. It was the one everyone kept telling her, Obi Wan and Bail. Time heals all, and all the other empty platitudes, people would serve you, when someone you loved was dead. But for her it never had.  Then again her story was a bit different. Her husband was not truly dead. No, he walked around a cold empty echo of himself, hurting others. Including good men like Kieran.

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Mina asked softly, focusing her red rimmed eyes on Padme’s face.

She nodded reassuringly “Yes, and you have Daedre, remember how precious that is, in those days you feel nothing is worth it anymore.”

Padme added conviction to her words, because maybe time would heal in Mina’s case, after all her husband had died the good man he had been in life. Perhaps if Anakin was truly dead, she would be able to let go as well. Mina nodded weakly at her words.

She only wished she did not feel so guilty, but it was through her connections Kieran had joined the rebels as a pilot. And now, his ship was shot down, by Vader’s fleet. She bit her lip, somehow feeling guilty for that as well.

Official imperial channels claimed they had attacked, giving the empire no choice but to retaliate, which was pure nonsense. More likely they had discovered something, and had been killed for it. Padme closed her eyes for a moment, trying to drown out the grief, and the anger.

“I know who I married Neve” Mina said, now being the one squeezing her hand. “And I know what you are thinking, that it’s partly your fault, because you helped him. But he would have done it anyways. It was who he was” 

Padme rubbed away a tear with her free hand. Reaching over she hugged her friend tightly, stroking her back as Mina started sobbing. “Hush, it will be alright. I promise” she whispered, hoping that it really would be.

They sat there together hugging for a very long time, until Padme spotted Luke studying them from the doorway to Daedre’s room. He looked so much like his father just then.  A man he would never know, a man he should now fear.

Pulling back, she wiped away her tears, offering Mina a piece of tissue to do the same. She had added those to the basket herself, remembering how much she had cried and sniffled at the beginning. 

Getting to her feet she called for the twins, before turning back to Mina. “We will let you rest for a while. If there is anything you need, remember you are not alone” With an another hug in goodbye, for both Mina and little Daedre, they left for home.

When the twins ran ahead again, she knew in that moment she was done. It was enough now, no longer would she sit here, and do nothing. Maybe Padme was dead, because she had to be. However, Neve she was not, and no longer would she sit still waiting for the day the empire found them. If not her, then one day her children. Increasing her pace, she caught up with the twins, her mind spinning, not knowing what to do next. All she knew, was that she would do something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still writing this story, I have just been a bit busy. I will try to remain as close to the movies and cartoon as I can, though I will deviate a bit, but when I do I will make it known. 
> 
> A warning though. Padme is bitter and angry in this story, I am not believer in easy resolutions. Vader is also a ruthless killer, at least to start out with. But it is a love story in the end


	3. Leaving Home

 

It was all nonsense, just sequence after sequence of nonsense. Padme wiggled her feet, trying to prevent her legs from falling asleep. After having spent hours peering at an endless set of numbers on the data pad, she was starting to feel stiff. Sitting back, she rolled her shoulders, trying to work out a kink.

“Need any help with that?” Anakin whispered, stepping behind her chair, kissing the nape of her neck.

“Mmm” she replied “With the numbers or my shoulders?”

She heard him laugh softly in her ear, his breath tickling her neck. “Work is dull, I only have a few days home, let’s have fun instead”

“Anakin, I have responsibilities, I can’t just drop them that easily”

“It won’t take long” he replied, and she could just about imagine his grin as he said it. Spinning her chair around to face him, she arched an eyebrow.” “Now that doesn’t sound like too much fun, does it? If it’s that quick”

“Got your attention though, didn’t I?” he said smiling, resting his hands on her chair handles, so he could lean down and kiss her. Laughing she let him distract her, reality could wait just a bit longer. Some part of her wished it could wait forever, as she started digging her hands through his thick hair. The sound of approaching voices, barely registered, as she surrendered to the kiss. Just in time, she manged to push Anakin down to the floor.

“Hide” she whispered, as she spun her chair back around. At that moment Bail came running into the room, stopping a few steps ahead of her desk.

“What can I help you with senator Organa?” she asked, as his eyes started to wandered about the room searching, but never actually focusing on her “Bail?”

After another moment pause, he started to speak. Yet all that reached her was muffled sounds, like he was speaking from a great distance away. Which was absurd, considering he was standing right there.  When she was about to get to her feet and approach him, he abruptly turned and vanished.

“Well that was odd” Anakin said, looking up at her from his seat on the floor.  “And I cannot believe you made me hide behind your desk again.  All though..” he said tapping a finger to his lips, humor in his eyes.  “It would be a lot more fun if you were hiding down here with me.” Sneaky hands quickly grabbed her around the waist pulling her down, and before she knew it she was lying on the floor, looking up at Anakin’s face.

“No frowning” he said, as he started kissing up her neck while his hand was finding his way beneath her dress. This time he was tickling her deliberately. His touch driving Bail’s strange behavior from her mind.

“We are not doing this on the floor of the senate building” she told him laughing, as she tried to wiggle out from beneath him.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, nibbling his way up to her ear “Sounds a lot more fun than what usually occurs around here”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Plenty of untoward things happen, within these walls.” she replied dryly, fending him off. “You and I however, are not doing anything in fact, until we solve this problem”

He gave her a sulky look as she finally managed to push him away sitting up, forcing the data pad into his hands. With a dramatic sigh he started reading.

“But it’s simple my love.” He said after a while, looking up at her with a smile. “It’s not what’s there that’s the problem.  It’s what’s not”

Frowning she took the pad back, but his meaning eluded her. When she looked up at his face again, he was still smiling, but his familiar blue eyes glowed a pale yellow. At that moment she swore she could see the fires of Mustafar reflected in their depths, frightened she pulled back. But he stretched out a hand grabbing her, his grip like a vice, threatening to pull her forward and into the fire.  

A pinch to her arm jerked her awake, heart thudding rapidly against her ribs.  It had just been a dream, she was safe, far away from Coruscant, and far away from him. Artoo slowly retracted his utility arm, cooing worriedly at her.

“I am alright Artoo, thank you for waking me” she told him, giving him a grateful pat. Sitting up in her chair, she groggily rubbed her eyes.

The hardest part of her dreams, was always waking up, remembering. Then all the regret would come rushing back. Looking back now, to those few happy years they had together, she wished she had been a bit more selfish. Spent a bit more time on herself, and on Anakin. Not just working for a better tomorrow, but enjoying the here and now. Because in the end, now was all you really ever had.

Pulling her robe close, she fiddled with the pad on her desk.  Considering her current plan of action, it was hard not wonder, if she had learned nothing at all from her mistakes. Or if she was doomed to repeat them. Was she trading a today she had with her children, for a tomorrow that would never come?

The pad had no answers, she had no answers, no certainty, except for one. That the empire would continue to grow in strength until it held all of them within its grasp. Would she be able to look the twins in the eye, if one day it started chocking them, as Vader had once done her? Knowing she had done nothing to try and stop it? Somehow she thought not.

Closing her eyes, the image of Anakin’s golden eyes, clashing with his tender smile, reappeared. This particular dream had not even let her forget her living nightmare. He haunted her, and there would be no peace for her as long as Vader lived.   Angrily she pushed the image away. Anakin could not help her now, she had to rely on herself.

“I am sorry Artoo, I did not mean to worry you” she told the droid, as he spun his eye to her face, cooing again. Frustrated, she turned back to her messy desk. This self-doubt was pointless, and a waste of her time. Besides, the message was already sent, and it was not like she was leaving and never coming back.

Anxiously awaiting her reply, she had spent every night in here reading. So it was no wonder, the numbers had also managed to find their way into her dreams.

Sighing she picked the pad up, scrolling through another set useless information. By now was it was likely out dated, not to mention incomplete. This would just give her a headache, nothing more. From out here, she stood no chance in finding answers, or be able to act in any meaningful way.

“How is the decryption coming along Artoo?” she asked, turning away from the mess on her desk, and the one within her troubled mind.

Since any interaction with her old life was extremely risky, they had to be very careful. Everything was decrypted, and passed through secure channels. But today after a long week’s wait, her answer had finally come.

Artoo beeped, and the sound of a static distorted voice started filling the room. It was a headless voice, as a holo was far too dangerous. 

“I got your message, and we may have a lead.  If you are still serious about meeting in person, I will be attending a conference in a weeks’ time, away from prying eyes.  Though I strongly recommend you stay put. Please do not take this risk. “The voice stopped briefly, nothing but static reaching her ears, until she heard a sigh.

 “I know you well enough by now to know, you are already shaking you head at my message, and will be coming anyway. But please promise me you will be careful. I will send further instructions, after receiving your reply.”

Padme stopped shaking her head at the remark, finding herself smiling slightly instead. The message had been short and to the point. But just hearing Bail speak, even with a distorted voice, made her feel less disconnected from her old self. He had also been right, there was no way she was missing this chance to see him, and maybe find some answers. In the end perhaps she could do her part, to make sure Kieran had not lost his life in vain.

* * *

 

The afternoon sun was shining, as she walked the familiar route down to Obi Wan’s house. She had walked in endless times by now, usually with the twins. However, this time she was alone. The gate to his garden patch squeaked as she opened it, and started walking down the path to his small house. Or as the twins liked to call it, she thought with a smile, his hut.

When they first moved here, she had offered him a place with them in their home, but he had refused. At first he had tried to pull even further away, playing at the hermit. However, in no uncertain terms, she had made sure Obi wan understood he was not going anywhere. They were in this together now.

It was a rural place they had hidden in, just green pastures and lazy afternoons. A soothing balm to her broken soul. So as soon as she felt better after the birth, she had started making the trip down here. Determinedly pushing the twins in their stroller, slowly building back her strength. Just putting one foot in front of the other, it was all she could manage in those early days

The twins had latched on to Obi Wan, and even he was powerless to resist when they were being their most charming. Eventually he grew from reluctant and distant, to happy every time they came. Only when he was playing with the twins, did she see traces of the cheerful man he had once been.

Her hand had not even reached half way to the door, before she heard the sound of his familiar voice, from within. “Come in” The squeaky gate must have given her away.

Pushing the door open, she entered, stepping straight into his small kitchen.

“You were expecting me?” She asked, when she noticed he had already placed an extra cup on the table, where he was sitting. Though he was a jedi after all, it should not surprise her.  He may give of the pretence of being distracted, always meditating. But she knew better, he was always on guard.

“I had a feeling you might come by on your own. Tea?” he asked, indicating a chair with one hand  

After hanging her coat by the door, she sat down, accepting the cup. It smelled delicious.

“I heard about your friend, I am sorry” he said, pouring himself one as well.

“Thank you” she replied, taking a sip. It taster herbal, probably meant to soothe. Too bad it never did.

“But I assume that’s not the reason you are here?”

She shook her head, eyeing him carefully “No, I am here because I need you to care for the twins, while I am away”

Obi Wan put his cup down, studying her with kind eyes. “This isn’t wise Padme”

“People have said that to me before, told me to hide, admit defeat. I didn’t listen then and I will not listen now. This is not a debate, Obi Wan. I am going, all I want to know is that you will keep them safe” She would not be swayed now, she had set her course.

“Off course I will, you know that, and I am not questioning your resolve. I am just wondering if you are thinking clearly, and grief is not clouding your judgement” he replied carefully.

She glared at him over her cup. “Are you sure it’s not clouding yours?” she bit back, before sighing and leaning back in her chair “I am sorry Obi Wan, that was uncalled for.  I do grieve, I will forever grieve. But my actions are my own. You know as well as I do, that I would be out there fighting the empire with all I have, if circumstances were different.”

“But they are not, and we both have to live with that” he added patiently, leaning back in his chair.

“That what do you suggest we do? Sit here and wait until the empire becomes too powerful to ever stop? Let others fight and die, while we cower? I cannot do it anymore Obi Wan” she put the cup down, she was right nothing would soothe her now.

“Perhaps wait until the twins are a little older and we can start— “she held up her hand stopping him, getting to her feet.

“Not this again, I have said it once and I will say it again. My children will not be pawns, I may not be able to give them much, but I will give them a childhood. One I myself lost too young, and Anakin never really had at all. If they are to be trained to use their power, it will not be so you can send them to die for our mistakes. This is not their burden to bear, it’s ours!”

“Then what do you want us to do Padme?” he asked sadly, looking less the jedi now, and more like the broken man he was. She however, was done with being broken.

“Something, anything!” She said, pacing across the floor tiles “Anything, but nothing” she whispered as she stared out his window, down at the valley below. Perhaps they could stay hidden here forever, but that felt a bit too much like cowardice.

“There as so few of us left. Risking exposure now, could put Leia and Luke in harm’s way.” Obi Wan said quietly, from behind her.

“Is that what you think I intend to do? Throw myself at his mercy?” she asked turning back to face him.  “I have not forgotten Mustafar Obi Wan, I never will. One moment more, and he might have killed not just me, but our unborn children.  I do not know if your words stopped him or not, or if he stopped himself. It doesn’t matter.  All I know, is he could have killed Luke and Leia. Believe me I am not going anywhere near him.”

“Then stay here where it’s safe” Obi Wan said, looking at her, eyes full of compassion, she had grown to hate that look by now. Enough with the guilt, and with the sorrow, she could not sit around like this anymore.

“Nowhere is safe, not truly.  I intend to stay in the shadows. I have played many roles in my life. I can do it again. Please try to understand, I need to do this.”

 “It’s too dangerous for you to get involved.” Obi Wan said, trying again, but she shook her head.

“Why? You have said so yourself you can barely feel me through the force, even when I am standing right in front of you. If there was any doubt that Vade— “she stopped herself biting her lip, faltering on the name, she hated it so much. “That he” she continued after clearing her throat “That he thought I wasn't dead, he would be searching for me by now. He believes me dead, that doesn’t mean I have to act like I am”

“I never suggested that you do Padme, but there must be safer ways for you to help?” He closed his eyes briefly, and she knew he was feeling for her force presence. She also knew he would find very little.

“It’s so strange” He said quietly, studying her with eyes wide open this time.  “More like the flicker of a tiny animal, than a person. Maybe the jedi archives would have known what this was. But like so much, they are lost to us.”  From a moment there he drifted away into memory, before focusing on her again. “But we don’t really know what happened to you that night. Or who or what saved you. I think it’s dangerous to rely on our luck too last.”

Padme sighed sitting back down. She was completely healthy, physically she was a strong as she had ever been. Even, more considering all the walking, and running after the twins. Yet somehow Yoda and Obi Wan claimed she was practically invisible through the force, ever since that faithful night.   

She remembered it clearly, the pain, the confusion. More than that, the betrayal. Being denied breath by the same man that used to hold you so close, as if you were the most precious thing in the universe.  The feeling of her body as it started to fail, her arms and legs so heavy. It would have been so very easy to just give up.

Reaching out a hand like lead, she had touched Luke’s precious face. Then more pain, and little Leia was finally safe from her dying body. She would never wish to leave them, she would not choose to die. But her body claimed otherwise, with the last bit of strength in her, she had reached out and toucher Leia’s tiny hand. The last thing she remembered before she fell asleep, was a small fist wrapping itself around her thumb.

She looked up at Obi Wan, a man aged before his time, his light dimmed and shattered, but he was not dead. Neither was she.  “I don’t believe in luck. You always say trust in the force, well that’s what I intend to do. Can I count on you?”

“Always” He replied with a sad smile.

“Good” she said, getting ready to leave, she wanted to spend as much time with the twins as she could, also with Mina and Daedre, she hated to leave them like this. Just as she opened the door she heard Obi Wan speak again.

“What happened was not your fault” Putting her hand on the door, she turned her head to look at him.

“Was it yours?” she asked quietly, and he looked away. “I would believe in your words Obi Wan, if you actually believed in them yourself. He did this, not you or me, he knew better. You taught him better” Pushing the door open, she left, hoping he listened to her words. They were easy to say, so much harder to believe. She was still waiting for the day when she believed them herself.

 

* * *

 

Padme let them stay up late the night she was leaving. Gathering a few snack and something warm to drink they sat huddled together beneath a blanket atop the roof terrace, one twin on each side. From here they could see the entire valley below, a full moon hanging high in the clear sky bathing everything in its pale light. She would point out some of the constellations, naming the once she could. 

“I want to be a pilot” Luke exclaimed, craning his neck back staring at the stars in awe. “Like daddy was, then I can fly up there and see them all”

Her heart ached every time Luke or Leia mentioned their father, she had told as much as she dared about him, not wanting to keep him a secret. Though most of it she had to hide, especially the greatest secret of them all.

“Maybe when your older” she said gently. Deep down she knew she would be unable to tame his wild blood. The stars called to him, just like they had done his father. But they would not have him yet, for now she would keep him safe.

“You can’t see them all you dummy” Leia said leaning over Padme, to give him a look. “There is to many”

“Can too” Luke said, glaring back.

“Cannot!”

“Stop it you two,” she said, interjecting herself between them “No fighting, we are here to enjoy ourselves before I go away, if you fight its right off to bed”

“Oh” They said in tandem, suddenly looking all innocence, and she had to fight the urge to smile. But it would no good to show weakness in front of them, they were sneaky little things.

Now that her departure was imminent, she could not help having second thoughts. Was she doing the right thing? And was she doing it for the right reasons, or was she just being selfish. In her desperate need to act, to feel useless somehow, was she risking the safety of her family?

 Frustrated she shook it off, instead turning her head up, she gazed at the stars. He was somewhere out there, oblivious to her continued existence, and that of their precious children. Even the star furthest away from here, was closer to her than he was, or ever would be again.

“Mummy why are you sad?” Leia asked, focusing on her not the stars above.

“Because I am thinking about how much I will miss you when I am gone” she said, and it was true, but not the entirety of it. Sometimes she wondered how much the twins could sense. She would never want her pain to hurt them.

“Why can’t we also come?” she asked. “Then you don’t have to miss us”

“We could help” Luke added, in between a mouthful of biscuit.

Padme smiled “Not this time sweethearts” she said softly, leaning forward fixing Leia’s braid. Don’t lose your innocence to fast my little loves, she wanted to say. For once lost its gone forever.

“Tomorrow when you wake up Ben will be here. You have promise me to be good while I am gone. You are also in luck, because he has promised to take you swimming”

Leia face fell.” I don’t want to go swimming”

“Why ever not? You love to swim” Padme asked frowning

“Luke says there are sea monster” Leia replied, twitching her small hands in the blanket.

“There is no sea monster in the lake Leia” she said looking pointedly at Luke, who was grinning mischievously “I won’t let you near any monster. Either of you. I promise” she emphasised, pulling them both close, swearing on the stars, she would keep that promise.

“Besides if there were monster I am sure they would get Ben first. He is bigger after all. You too are hardly big enough to eat.”  She said, and she could hear them laugh into the blanket. The sound almost making her cry, but she would never want them to see that, so instead she told them more stories of a brave pilot she once knew. Until they could barely keep their eyes open, only then did she take them to bed. Tucking them in one last time, before she put on her cloak and left, with only Artoo for company.

* * *

 


	4. New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NB: 01.09.2016 I moved the Vader part of this chapter to the beginning of chapter 2, the story did not flow quite as well as I wanted. He is in the next chapter coming up so I decided to spread him out a bit more since there is quite a bit of Padme in the beginning. Ignore this if you started reading after that date. Slight edit of chapter 3 as well, shortened Padme's musings a bit.

Padme pulled the hood of her dark blue cloak, further over her face. Trying to disappear into the shadows. The transport was filthy and overcrowded, and she was hardly the only one trying to appear inconspicuous. Mostly people did it to discourage pick pockets, and thief’s. Others like her, hid for different reasons.

As she moved a tall male twi’lek bumped into her, causing her to stagger back a step. When he turned around and caught a glimpse of her face, he gave her a salacious grin, flashing a set of pointed teeth, the invitation obvious. The last thing she wanted to do, was to cause a scene. So urging Artoo a head of her, she quickly slipped a way into the crowd.

Finding a quiet spot, she dropped down on a bench, glad the twi’lek had not decided to follow her.  Shifting restlessly, she eventually managed to get comfortable.

For her, there had been no other man since Anakin. Though not for lack of offers, for love, or other things. Yet even if he had not stolen her heart so completely and irrevocably all those years ago, Anakin had also left her wary. Not frightened exactly, but uneasy. Maybe one day she would be ready. Just not now. Not for anything.

“Remember the last time we travelled as refugees Artoo?” she asked quietly, turning instead to her only companion. That time Anakin had been with them, with his heart in his eyes. She had seen it even then, but pretended not to. Artoo beeped sadly at her, moving closer. Sometimes she wondered how much the droid actually understood of it all. A lot was her guess.

“Then we were running away from danger, no we are probably running towards it. Perhaps I am crazy, and Obi Wan was right.” She whispered so only he would hear.

Sighing, she leaned her head against the wall resting for a moment, not daring to close her eyes. Not in this place.  This particular mode of transport was slow, but safe. Well relatively so anyways, yet she had no wish to be robbed.

So to avoid falling asleep, she watched the people around her instead. An old lady clutched her meagre belongings tightly in her lap, her clothes worn and ragged, eyes darting nervously about. A _war_ refugee Padme thought. There were still plenty of those around, even if the war was supposedly over.

Padme knew some minor non important planets had been sacked for resources, curtesy of the empire. Its people left with nothing.  The senate to frightened or truthfully too weak to act, they were merely Palaptine’s puppets now.  Well except for Bail and a few others, but what could they do? No, this war would not be won at the floor of the imperial senate. That was for certain.

Seated on the floor just a head of her, a little girl was playing with the tattered remains of a doll, likely another victim of Palpatine’s rule. Yet she seemed oblivious to all the tense faces around her, sitting there smiling and laughing with herself, and Padme found a smile tugging on her own lips in response. To the little girl her doll was precious, it did not matter that it was broken and battered. 

A large alien walked to close, almost stepping on the girl by accident. With a gasp Padme got to her feet, ready to intervene. But it was unnecessary, two strong arms had already grabbed her. Depositing her safely in a young man’s lap. Her father, if Padme had to guess. He smiled softly at the girl, pulling her close, keeping her safe, as fathers should.

Relieved Padme sank back down on the bench, unable to help the lump in her throat. That should have been Anakin, playing with Leia, or with Luke. Keeping them safe from harm, instead now he was their greatest threat, save one. Palpatine himself. Fury replaced her fatigue at the thought of that man, and the fool he had made of them all.

At that moment the girl caught her staring at them, and offered Padme an uncertain smile. She waved back, her anger receding for the moment. This time she got a proper smile in return. The young man narrowed his eyes at her, but after a thorough inspection seemed to deem Padme no threat. Instead he offered her to share a meal with them.

The next few hours flew by in pleasant company. For a while she even got down on the floor and played with the girl and her broken toy. When she left Padme tied one of the ribbons she had in her hair, around the dolls neck like a scarf. “Here as good as new” she told the girl when she handed it back, unable to resist tying one in the girl’s hair as well. “Now you match” The girl beamed at her, fiddling with the ribbon in delight.

Smiling sadly Padme got to her feet. This was not Leia, yet this girl also suffered the consequences of the empires far reach, probably more so. One spearheaded by her once husband. She swallowed, it was silly to feel guilty, but somehow she did anyway.

Saying her goodbyes Padme let the masses swallow her again. By the time they reached the spaceport, it was night. Which suited her fine, the cold air chilled her face as she walked down onto the platform.

Heading over to the next terminal, her heart did a double take when she spotted a familiar white armor. Clonetroppers, no stormtroppers she corrected herself. She still remembered a time when the sight of their uniform did not fill her with dread. They were everywhere these days, even in remote hubs like this. Bending her head low, she strode confidently past, acting suspiciously would only draw their attention.

The transit hub was busy, yet it did not take her long to find the local cantina. After buying a drink she got seated at the bar, Artoo by her feet. Hoping she did not have to wait long.

“Mistress Neve I presume” a man asked, startling her, it irked how nervous she was these days.

“Just Neeve, please” she said, letting go of the blaster she had grabbed beneath her cloak.

He gave her a pleasant smile and a bow. “I am Jay, and I will be your escort for the rest of the way”

Smooth she thought, he was tall, with long dark hair tied behind his back, complementing his tanned skin. He fitted the description she had been given well enough, so she followed him back outside.

“Come my ship is just that way” he said pointing in the direction of a small freighter further along the landing platform.

Upon entering Jay introduced her to his co-pilot, a short stocky man named Nathan. Who grunted in greeting. “Excuse my friend her” Jay said with a smile, petting the shorted man on the back, “He doesn’t say much, and old head injury or some such” Nathan glared at him, but Jay just grinned.

Padme nodded certain he was jesting. Taking in her new surroundings, she noticed the compartment was full of crates, some open, its content clearly recognizable, spice. She knew it well enough from Naboo’s own mines, having worked hard to disrupt the trade during her tenure as queen. She narrowed her eyes “You are smugglers?” she asked sharply. Strange choice of escort Bail had chosen for her.

Jay went suddenly serious, looking over at Nathan, before his eyes returned to her. “Officially yes.” He said indicating the crates, “The empire cares little for small scale smuggling operations.  Rebel spies on the other hand– “he said cautiously letting his hand drop.

“I understand” she replied as she removed her cloak. And she did, she had pretended to be someone else for years because of the empire. Though no longer would she chose the role of pacifist

 “I can play the smuggler for a while” she said, getting seated.

“Alderaan next Neve” Jay replied, seemingly relieved, making her smile. What she was doing was dangerous, she knew that. But she was really looking forward to seeing Bail again. Regardless of the risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short update, I will update more regularly soon, just busy plotting the story forward at the moment:)


	5. A Lucky Escape

 

Obi Wan sat back in the sofa, feeling troubled. So much so, he had cut their swim short. There was something in the air, he could not quite name.  The twins were whispering among themselves, casting uncertain glances in his direction, and he feared they could sense his unease. Luke looked over at him then, his blond hair still wet. Out of the two, he was the one that was most painful to watch, growing more similar to his father in appearance every day.

Obi Wan sighed, looking away. Anakin had been a young innocent boy once too.  Until he had gotten a hold of him, then bit by bit the boy had faded away. He too blind to see it, or perhaps unwilling too.

Trying to relax he gave the other girl, Daedre a reassuring smile, right now she had a lost expression on her face, her grief still so raw. Leia moved closer, whispering in the girl’s ear, luring out a small smile.

Satisfied they were fine, Obi Wan picked up the comlink Padme had given him from where it rested on the table. Several of her acquaintances around the area had others, creating an early warning system of sorts.

Running a hand through his beard, he tried to focus. The force was trying to tell him something, but it felt vague. The dark side clouded everything, even out here, though he did sense someone approaching.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Mina entered.

“I hope she was no trouble” she said, ruffling her daughter’s hair with a smile.

“None at all” he replied, getting to his feet “Tea?” That was all he did these days, make tea. Mina nodded. As he stood a shiver ran down his spine, and on cue the comlink went off.

“Ben?” a voice asked cautiously.

“Yes, it’s me.” he replied, and the entire room went silent, all eyes on him. The twins looking at him curiously.   

“There is a star destroyer in orbit, stoormtroopers on the ground, they are headed your way” the man said quickly, sounding nervous.

“Did they mention Neve?” So they had been found at last, he supposed it was only a matter of time. Yet Padme had just left, and he doubted she had been caught that easily.

“No, they are after Kieran’s family, I tried to reach their house but no one was there, can you please tell them to hide.” Obi Wan frowned, looking over at Mina, who had gone pale, pulling Daedre close.

“They are here, I will keep them safe, don’t you worry” he said, while giving Mina a reassuring nod. She didn’t know what he was, no one but Padme did. He had kept it secret all these years, but there was still some life left in his old bones yet.

“There is another thing. Vader is with them” the man whispered, like he was afraid someone would overhear.

“I see” he replied, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. Here it was, the moment he had dreaded ever since Mustafar.  He had been unable to kill Anakin then, a decision he had lived to regret, for more than one reason. Yet this time around, if it came down to it. He feared he was not strong enough to defeat Vader, even if he tried.

Obi Wan looked over at the children, Vader did not know about their existence. But if he found the twins here with him, he would figure out the truth. There was no other choice. They had to run

“You two” he said, pointing at the twins, “Get your bags, you know which once. Mina get some clothes from here, there is no time for you to go home.”

The twins rushed off. But Mina did not move, she just stood there staring blankly at him. “What are we going to do?” she whispered. Obi Wan moved over, touching her arm gently. “We are going to run, now hurry” he gave her a gentle push, and she blinked regaining herself. “Off course” she replied, heading upstairs.

In the meantime, he ran to Padme’s office, she had cleared out the mess before she left. But one thing remained. Grabbing his lightsaber from the high self he had put it on, he turned it on, slashing through the lock on the desk drawer. Hesitating only a moment, he grabbed Anakin’s saber. Briefly remembering how proud Anakin had been with the design. Then later the hatred on his face as he tried to kill him with it. Obi Wan swallowed, clipping it to his belt.

Running back out, he grabbed Threepio and his own bag. Before ushering them all inside a secret pathway underneath the house.  One that would lead straight to Padme’s ship, hidden away for emergencies. Closing the door behind him, he could only hope Vader would be as unable to sense Padme as he was. Obi Wan had no doubt however, that his old apprentice would be able sense him.  

“What about mummy?” Leia asked frowning, standing right behind him when he turned around.

“Yes” Luke said, eyes wide. “How will she find us?”

“We are going somewhere safe, she will know where it is” he said, pushing them gently ahead, as fast as their short legs could carry them. Hoping it was fast enough.

 

* * *

 

Vader didn’t even bother to unclip his lightsaber, he knew even before the door opened that no one was inside the house. A pity for their sake, he had intended to make this quick. His troopers moved ahead, doing a search of the perimeter regardless. But he chose to remain outside.

He had deliberately made himself known, this was after all a show of force, a penalty for treason. Though he was still not certain why he had been sent half the way across the galaxy to deal with a woman and her child. His troops could do that. But his master had his ways, and as always he would obey.

An awareness prickled at his subconscious. Something kept dragging his gaze to another house further up the hill.

“Stay, see if they return.” he told his troopers, as he turned and walked, letting the force guide him. As he moved closer, the memory of a familiar presence assaulted his senses.  Followed quickly by another memory. Fire, pain, betrayal. He would know that presence anywhere. Obi Wan.

Vader stopped for a moment tilting his head up towards the house, clenching his fists. The dark side grew in strength, and he let it in. Moving forward he increased his pace. Only in these times did he mourn the loss of his previous agility.  For the most part his added strength made up for the suits encumbrance, but sometimes he wished freedom from its restraints. Mostly so he could look Obi Wan in the eyes when he finally killed him.

Reaching the door, he lifted his hand, gathering the force around him, pushing it off its hinges. Wood splintering as it crashed into a table in the entryway.

Entering his eyes told him now, what the force already had, this house was also empty. He wanted to roar, but railed it in, instead focusing his fury. Rage was a tool to be used, to harness, not to be unleashed until he willed it. He was not _that_ fool, not anymore.

It was a large house, toys littering the floor indicating children. Obi Wan had been there, was it his children? No, not his. The presence was not strong enough to suggest he lived here.  

Spinning on his heels Vader exited. Pausing briefly to look back once, something else pulling at him, another memory. But this one was of happiness, smooth skin, laughter. Pain lanced through his dead heart. No, she had betrayed him too, and for that she was gone. Vader left then, and this time he did not look back.

Down by the other house a trooper had cornered an old man. Moving forward he lifted the man by his throat slamming him up against the house wall.

“Where is Obi Wan?” He hissed, clenching his hand around the old man’s throat. Dark eyes looked at him, wide with fear. Good let him fear, let them all fear.

“Who?” The old man stammered gasping for breath. Desperately clawing at Vader’s hand like an insect. He ignored the man’s struggle, pushing him harder up against the wall.

“Middle-aged man, beard. I know he was here. Now speak!” Vader saw the flare of recognition in the man eyes, before he suppressed it, shaking his head. So, he would protect Obi Wan would he? Brave then, but ultimately foolish.

Vader tightened his hand around the man’s windpipe.  Wheezing, the old man pointed in the direction of a smaller house further down the hill, seems his loyalty did not run too deep. Satisfied Vader didn’t even bother to use the force, just clenched harder, until he heard a crunching sound, then he dropped the corpse at his feet.

Storming down the hill this time, his cape fluttering behind him as he went, Vader saw red, the dark side surrounding him, filling him. Obi Wan would pay for what he had done. The garden gate squeaked as he threw it open.  He knew even then it was too late, Obi Wan might have been here, recently in fact.  But by now he was long gone.

“Captain” he said, speaking into his comlink.

“Yes Lord Vader” Came the immediate response.

“I want this world in lockdown, no one leaves this planet unless I say so”

There was no sound in response, just as he felt his fury rise, the trooper spoke “But sir, we only have one star destroyer, a planet wide blockade simply isn’t possible”

Vader clenched his teeth, he would not let Obi Wan escape again, but he knew the trooper was right “Call in reinforcements, and find me someone else to tell me of who lived in the house on the hill” he said sharply. Perhaps he had killed that old man to soon. No matter, there were more living here, someone would know.

“Right away sir” the trooper replied, and he could sense the man’s relief at escaping his wrath. Unfortunately, Vader knew reinforcements would probably come too late, and Obi Wan would likely already have left the planet. Seemingly with his quarry in tow. Perhaps it was even he, that had planted the seed of rebellion in the prisoner’s mind. In the end it didn’t matter, they would all die for their treachery.

Not bothering to reply he entered Obi Wan’s house, his old master’s presence stank up the place. How he hated that weak fool.

_The weak fool that defeated you_ , an unwanted voice whispered, he shrugged it off. That was years ago. He was so much stronger now, then he had been at Mustafar.

The small house was sparse as expected, jedi were not supposed to have many personal possessions. Another one of their foolish beliefs, always limiting their power to serve, when they could rule. Once they had tried to limit him, a mistake most had not lived to regret.

Most, a few yet escaped him, but not for long. He would find his old master, and when he did, he would not be the one left behind to burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Obi Wan, he is not really a main character but will pop in from time to time.  
> Note about Vader. He is not as controlled in this story as he is in the original trilogy. He is still very young here, not even 30, and if anyone can make him loose control its Obi Wan and Padme. He is also a bit deluded, trying to justify his actions to himself.


	6. A plan

Padme continued to hide her face, until Jay closed the door behind him, leaving her in the room all by herself. They were not in the capital. But still, even out here someone might recognize her. This was as close to the Coruscant she had been since. Well, since everything, and it left her feeling uneasy. Which was silly, considering she had chosen to come here.

Lowering her hood, she wandered over to a window. Alderaan’s mountainous landscape was visible in the background, the sun high above a snowy peak. She had not forgotten how beautiful it was. In some strange way it reminded her of home. But that was a place she could never go. Never again. Not to see her parents, or Sola. For on Naboo, too many knew her face. There her fame was her curse.

She felt a sudden pang of pain at that depressing thought. It overlaid itself onto the usual steady ache, she had grown accustomed to by now. The one that was always there, and would probably never go away.

Pain, her one constant companion. One her parents probably shared. Because her life was a secret, one even they did not know. Nor did they know about Luke and Leia, and perhaps they never would. Only after becoming a mother herself, did she understand how her own mother had felt every time she had been in danger. She could easily imagine the despair they must have felt at her loss.

The sound of the door opening and closing behind her, broke her reverie. Her heart had done a jump at the sound, but quickly recovered at the sight of Bail. He looked just like she remembered him.

Smiling he moved into the room, extending his hand to take hers. Rushing forward with a smile of her own, she ignored it. Instead she leaned forward giving him a hug, relived to see him alive and well. He laughed, giving her a gentle pat on the back

Padme had admired him as a politician for as long as she could remember. Then later as an acquaintance and colleague.  But only now, did they truly feel like friends. To her he was a lifeline, her last link to her old life.

“How are you?” He asked carefully, searching her eyes.

She took a step back, opening her mouth to speak. _Not well at all Bail. Not at all_ , was on the tip of her tongue.  But she did not speak the words, just smiled bravely up at him.

“As well as you could expect, I suppose. And you?” she replied instead, moving over to sit down at the table, Bail following.

He shrugged, folding his hands on the table surface. Up close she could see he looked more worn than before, new worry lines marking his face. “It’s frustrating. I want to do more, but if I do too much—” he trailed off.

“You risk your family, and at worst Alderaan” she finished for him. She could relate, at least with the family part. However, unlike Bail, she no longer bore the burden of command.

“Exactly” he said, handing her a glass of wine.

“Have you–” she asked carefully. Her hands twitching nervously around the glass stem, almost causing her to spill its content. “Have you seen him?” she tried again. There was no need to say who she meant.

Bail looked at her, his eyes full of sympathy “I have” he replied rather reluctantly.

And? She wanted to ask. Is it really as bad as it seems, or is it worse? What is he like? Is he in pain? But she didn’t, and she wasn’t sure where that last thought had come from. It was absurd to worry about his welfare. In the end he had cared very little for hers, or their children.

“He is gone Padme” Bail added more quietly.

Gone. She blinked, feeling the weight of her necklace against her chest, suddenly it felt really heavy. How could he be gone? It made no sense. How could he be there one moment, and be gone the next?  She wanted to scream, to deny it all. Even after all these years, a part of her still could not truly comprehend it was true.

“I know” she said trying to collect herself, eyes downcast so he would not see her grief. It was silly really, it’s not like any of this was news to her. Yet, she had to admit, a deeply buried part of her, still held out a tiny flicker of hope. Though most days she would deny it, even to herself. Especially to herself, she thought, drinking deeply from her glass.

“My parents” she blurted out, not wanting to talk about _him_ anymore. “Do you know how they are doing?” she asked, eyeing him uncertainly. Bail seemed as relieved as her, to her abrupt change in subject.

“I have seen them, when I went to Naboo for the festival of light. They are doing well Padme, considering”

They still did that?  Had the light not gone out in the galaxy?  It seemed absurd somehow, that for many, life moved on as it always had. But then again she supposed, for many nothing had truly changed.

“Was Palpatine there?” she asked harshly, refusing to call him emperor. He was not her emperor and he never would be.

“Yes, he even went to your grave. To pay his respects.” Bail said, his expression clearly reflected what he thought about that gesture.

Padme snorted rather ungracefully. “I bet he did. I really wish someone would put him in a grave!” she said bitterly. Not knowing when she had become such a spiteful person. Before she had always tried to believe in the best in others. She had off course known dislike, resentment, or even animosity towards some, like any other person would.  However, only now did she truly know hate.

Bail refilled both their glasses with wine, she hadn’t even realised hers was empty. “Even one as opposed to violence as I am, will drink to that” he said, clanking his glass with hers.

Gratefully she took a deep sip. “To aggressive negotiations” she said, returning the gesture. Bail looked a bit baffled at her words, and she felt a strange urge to laugh.

“Our dark impulses aside, we have to do something. Do you have what I asked for?” she asked instead.

“Right here” he replied, getting a small data pad out from within his coat. “It’s the last transmission from your friend’s ship”

Padme swallowed hard, before taking it. It seemed so final somehow, the result of Kieran’s very last act. Before he too, was gone.

She started to scroll through. Sigh, it was even more numbers. For this she was going to need more wine. 

Together they worked in silence. Taking only small breaks to catch up.  Padme would listen intently, as Bail told her about the state of the galaxy. Though she noticed he had a tendency to avoid anything about Vader. She did not quite know, if she was grateful or not.

Surely Vader had done terrible things. But it couldn’t possibly be worse than all the horrible things she had imagined. Could it?  She was not sure, if she really wanted to find out.

“And how are the twins? Growing up fast?” Bail asked suddenly, and she smiled just thinking about them, wondering if they had managed to wear Obi Wan out yet.

“They are fine, but they can be a handful sometimes.” She replied fondly. Recanting a few of their adventures to Bail.

Though it was hard not to notice the sorrowful look he got sometimes, as she spoke of them. Padme knew he had wanted a child of his own.  But he and Breha had never been able to conceive.

Unlike her she thought dryly. Who had gotten pregnant by accident.  An act that helped send Anakin over the edge, and into the dark.  Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t. Would things have ended differently? Choosing not to dwell on that, she decided to change the subject again.

“Why is there a supply station here?” she asked, bringing up a map on the holo projector.  It was not far from where Kieran’s ship had been destroyed.

“Where?” Bail asked, looking over at her, as she indicted the spot with one finger.

“There is no need to refuel at such a short distance” she added, pointing out the location of several mining colonies nearby. All of them sent supply ships directly to the station, allegedly refuelling before moving on.

“And where are they headed anyway? The amount of raw material is staggering” she said, inspecting the manifest from one of the larger mines. Why had Kieran thought this was important?

Bail frowned, coming over to take a closer look. “To the imperial navy I believe. I don’t think Palpatine is as secure in his reign as he pretends to be. They are constantly building more star destroyers”

“I seem to remember people applauding his ascension.” She added dryly.  Many had handed him power willingly then. But she knew, he would never willingly hand it back. “And I don’t think so somehow, not mining at this scale.  “

“Many have grown wise by now Padme” Bail added sitting back down. He sounded tired. “But perhaps you are right. However, I have no noted records of this station even existing. How did you find it?”

“Kieran” she said simply, and she was certain there was something important about that place. He wouldn’t have sent the information otherwise.  Quickly she checked the data from the nearest navy shipyard. There was a steady supply of materials, true. But nowhere near as much as there should be.

“It’s not what’s there that’s the problem.  It’s what’s not” she muttered to herself after a while.

“What?” he asked looking confused.

“Where is the rest Bail?” she asked, checking several other shipyards as well, all yielding the same result. An enormous amount of raw materials was simply missing.

“They might just be building more ships elsewhere, to expand the imperial star fleet?” Bail asked uncertainly, but he did not sound convinced.

“Perhaps. But I have a feeling something else is going on, and if we can get in there” she said, pointing at the small dot on the map again. “Maybe we can gather some clues to what that is.”

“I doubt the emperor would be foolish enough to leave that kind of information lying around” Bail said sceptically.

She shrugged “Probably not, but there must be some information on where the remaining cargo is being sent after mining, and that is a trail we can follow. Whatever Palpatine is up to, it won’t be any good.”

Bail leaned back in seat, tapping one finger to his lips. “I fear you are right. But how do you suppose we get into a heavily guarded, secret imperial base?”

Padme gave him a small smile, outlining some other interesting information she had taken note of. In that moment an image of Anakin’s cheerful face appeared in her mind. He had a cocky look on his face. The one he would get, when he came up with an especially crazy plan. This one is for you my love, she thought her smile almost fading.

Bail read her notes, his brows furrowing more deeply as he got to the end. “It’s risky, but it might work” he said finally, looking up. “I will gather the crew we need”

“Good I want to go with them” she replied, knowing full well what his response would be.

“Padme” he said carefully, leaning forward this time “You know that is too dangerous”

“Only to capture the shuttle Bail, I don’t intend to set foot on the station. It’s just I need to do this, for Kieran, for his wife and their daughter” she pleaded, hoping he would understand.

"Are you sure this is the real reason you want to do this?" he asked after a long pause, his eyes assessing her.

She met them head on. "I do this because it's the right thing to do, it has nothing to do with _him_ " Bail sighed letting the matter drop, but she knew he did not believe her, and to be truthful she wasn't sure she did either.

“You have the children to think of as well” he tried instead. Reminding her too much of Obi Wan.

"I am Bail, that's is why I am doing this. Most of the men and women fighting for us have children of their own, that's why they fight. I will not ask more of them then I am willing to give myself." She said stubbornly.

Bail nodded, though he did not look convinced. "I really wish you would change your mind about this, but if you are determined, then I suppose there is nothing I can do or say to stop you. Maybe I should come with you instead?”

She shook her head. “You are needed to fight a different fight. One I can no longer do for obvious reasons. You are needed in the imperial senate, you know this."

Bail sighed, “I know. Though it feels like I achieve precious little these days “

Padme knew that feeling very well. “Sometimes the only thing we can do is bide our time, and if by some miracle we manage to bring the empire down. Someone has to be there to pick up the pieces. Someone like you” she said reassuringly.

Bail smiled sadly “If only we could. Though you know what that would mean don’t you?”

Padme looked away, biting her lip. She knew all too well what it meant.

“If the empire falls, so does he. Are you prepared for that?” Bail continued more softly, and she finally manged to meet his eyes.

“For Luke and Leia I will have to be” she said softly. For the sake of her children, and for the galaxy. For all of them, Vader had to die.


	7. A faithful choice

Vader stood in front of the viewport on the bridge of his star destroyer, studying ships as they went past. By his order, anyone without proper clearance would be shot down.

It had been days, with still no sign of Obi Wan. Vader was almost certain he was already gone from this place.

Yet he lingered.

Pacing down to the starboard viewport, he looked down at the planet below. He could not help but feel he was missing something. Something important, and it was not just his old master.

What were you doing here old man? What have you been up to? Vader closed his eyes, focusing his senses on that single thought. The dark side granted him power. But not enough, never enough.  Obi Wan eluded him, for now at least.

He opened his eyes, several star destroyers hung over the planet’s surface like silent sentinels. Nothing would escape the empire, nothing would escape him. Only when he noticed the crack in the glass, did he realize he had clenched his fists. Taking a deep breath, he pulled back his rage. This was not the time.

So far his search had yielded little result. Though he had taken some satisfaction in tearing Obi Wan’s house apart. Unfortunately, he had found nothing of importance.  

Only one thing stuck out, however. His old master had befriended a small family, a woman and her children. Other jedi perhaps? Whoever they were, they had likely fled along with him. But no matter, they were of no consequence.

He turned away, noticing a young officer studying him. Frightened eyes flickering between him and the fractured glass. The man paled, when he noticed Vader watching him. New, was he?

“My lord, sir” he said, lips trembling. Vader narrowed his eyes, he did not like his men weak. Reverent, yes. But not weak.

“It the emperor my lord, he commands you to contact him at once.”

“Good” he replied. He had a thing or two he wanted to talk to his master about.  Quickly Vader strode past the officer, almost close enough to touch. The man’s terror was palpable. It was almost amusing.

Reaching his chamber, Vader leaned down on one knee, the emperor’s pale projection appearing immediately.

“Did you know?” he asked. The emperor did not reply. Just looked coolly down at Vader from beneath his hood.

“Master” he added, bending his head low.

“About Obi Wan? I did not. But there was something–” Vader’s head snapped up. Just for a moment there his master had sounded uncertain. That was weakness, the sith did not tolerate weakness.

“I sense a disturbance in the force.” The emperor added, the moment gone. “There is another piece in play Lord Vader. One hidden even from my gaze. Your vengeance will have to wait.”

“I will find him master. Leaving now would be unwise” he protested, digging his hand into his knee, pinching the flesh just above his prosthetic leg. Remembering the cut. Perhaps he would show Obi Wan the same mercy he had once shown him.

The dark side flared, the emperor’s presence growing, snapping Vader out of his thoughts.  

“Is that so?” the emperor said icily, his eyes flashing darkly.

Vader bent his head again, knowing he had overstepped his bounds. “What is you bidding, my master?”

The emperor gave him a grandfatherly smile, his anger seemingly evaporated. It was like the once he had used to give, to another man. Back then. That man had believed in the smiles. Craved them and their approval, like the weakling he had been. Vader other hand, he knew better.

“Oversee the delivery yourself my friend. Do not to lose another.”

“It will be as you wish, master”

“Good” the emperor rasped, before the holo projection vanished. Vader remained kneeling for a while, jaws clenched.   Then he pushed himself to his feet, heading straight for his meditation chamber.

As he got seated, it sealed around him. Pressurised air hissing, as it filled the small enclosed space.

Satisfied it was done, he removed the helmet, briefly staring at his own pale reflection. Obi Wan had smiled at him, and so had _she_. The emperor smiled when it suited him. In the end, behind all their smiles, lay nothing but deception and lies.

Vader leaned forward studying his yellow eyes, he would not be fooled again. The emperor was hiding something, which was not unusual. But this, this was different.

 

* * *

 

They hid on the far side of the planets moon, their ship resting on its rocky surface. It was a dead desolate thing, and unlike the planet below, it had no atmosphere. Still it would serve the needed purpose.

Padme felt slightly nervous. They would only get one chance at this, and the hard part would not be to bring the shuttle down. But to do so without causing any obvious damage. Which was a lot easier said than done, she thought dryly.

Frustrated she shifted in her chair, hoping she was right about this. By now they had spent hours staring into the vastness of space, looking for any signs of the it. So far there was nothing.

“Relax will you” Jay said, yawning as he stretched out one booted foot. The imperial uniform made him look like a completely different man. Though his hair was still too long.

“Kale and his gang, are old space pirates. Believe me they can bring her down. Besides you are making me nervous” he continued giving her a reassuring smile.

“If she shows that is” Padme muttered. Maybe she had been wrong, and they had altered the route. Or the time.

“Well what do you know” Jay exclaimed leaning forward, suddenly alert. “There she is” It was just a tiny speck on the horizon, growing as it moved closer. Oblivious to their trap.

Jumping to her feet, Padme headed for the forward gun. Using its scope, she enlarged the image until it became clear. For the first time ever, the sight of an imperial shuttle made her smile.   

“And now we wait” Jay said quietly, leaning back in his chair. His ship would remain on the moon’s surface, unless needed. Padme had every intention to keep her word to Bail, and stay out of it.  Yet, she had needed to be here.

Just as the shuttle was about to pass by the moon, a swarm of small projectiles emerged from below, attaching themselves to the hull. They cracked like eggs. Several spider like droids crawled out, scattering around the shuttle surface.

“Buzz droids. Wont they damage it?” she asked Jay, but her eyes never left the scope. Staying firmly fixed on the shuttle.

“Nah, not too much. Just enough to bring her down. It will be over before they even notice. Arrogant fools, travelling without an escort” He shook his head. “I thought the empire was supposed to be better than this”

“They are. This is an old hyperspace route, no one was supposed to know they were coming this way.” She replied. It was over quickly and soon Kale’s ship appeared, hocking onto shuttle, pulling it down. Slowly it started to descend, landing roughly on a rocky slope just a head.

It was done, but far from over. “Are you ready for this” She asked Jay, eyeing his long hair. There must be some scissors somewhere. Somehow she doubted an imperial officer would have long hair.

“Oh no don’t even think it” he said, noticing the direction of her stare, as he started to pull on a space suit. Padme relented grabbing one for herself.

Along with Jay she headed down onto the moon’s surface. It was a short walk across rocky terrain, to reach the shuttle. From here it looked intact, but she could see droids busy doing repairs.

The quiet of space made her breath echo in her ears, while the suit made her skin clammier with each step. By the time they entered the shuttle hatch, she was more than ready to escape its confinement. What would it be like to never be able to escape, she wondered. To be forever trapped within?

A living nightmare, that’s what. She ripped the helmet off as soon as she could, running a hand through her disheveled hair, before tucking it in a bun.  Obi Wan had been left with no choice in the end. Anakin had sealed his fate, chosen his path, and his living prison.

Jay nudged her, and it brought her focus back to the present. Kale was waiting for them just inside, also dressed as an imperial. He was a large man, with short cropped white hair, and rather dubious credentials. Yet he had done the job, and Bail trusted him, so Padme would to.

Right now he looked less than pleased. “We have sealed any potential hull breaches, but we do have a problem” he said, before giving her a calculating stare “There was an inspector aboard just as you said. However, it’s a woman. “ he added, handing her a bundle, arching one white eyebrow.

How could she have been this stupid? The records had stated a man each time. However, things could change, she should have foreseen this eventuality.  Numbly she accepted, Kale giving her an approving nod, whilst Jay uttered some profanities. It could not be helped. They had come too far to stop now. “I’ll do it”

“Hold on there” Jay said, grabbing her arm, as she started to head for the back. “I made a promise to Bail to keep you out of trouble, and stop you if attempted anything like this”

Padme shook him off, she was no child, she would make her own decisions. “Then what do you suggest?” she said harshly “The plan is already in motion, and we won’t get another opportunity like this. Like it or not, I am the only one here qualified for the job"

“Bail will have my head” Jay said with a sigh, but made no more moves to stop her.

Padme ignored the flicker of guilt thinking about Bail. Hopefully this would be over, before he even found out. Closing the compartment door, she quickly put the uniform on. Thankfully it fit.

After she put the cap on, she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. It had come loose from its tight bun. Then she smoothed her hands down the uniform to make sure everything was pristine. To complete the outfit, she buckled on the belt, stepped in to the black leather boots, and for the final touch put on the black leather gloves. Clenching and unclenching her hands she looked down at them, she never wore black leather gloves, never. 

When she looked up she could her reflection in part of the panel ahead.  It was a different woman that looked back at her, an imperial officer by first glance. But if you looked closer there was something missing. Stepping closer she peered at her face. Her big brown eyes were wide an uncertain. That would not do.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, summoning as much of the old Padme as she could muster. The one that had not had her confidence shattered into a million pieces. When she opened them again, her eyes had a determined sheen to them. More like the eyes of someone used to authority, that was much better. This is who she needed to succeed in this mission. Any sign of uncertainty, and the ruse would be over before it even began.


	8. Caught

It was massive Padme thought, as she the space station came into view. Some supply ships were arriving alongside them, others leaving. The empire expanding its might with each delivery, no doubt.

Jay gave her sympathetic look. “You can still change your mind” he said gently. But she shook her head. “No, take us down” she replied. She had to do this now, before her courage faltered.

He nodded, giving the clearance code. Padme held her breath, until they were granted permission to land. Only then did she turn to leave the cockpit.

“Be careful” Jay said softly, looking at her intently with his dark eyes. Blue eyes had looked at her like that once, before it ended in disaster.  It was a look she knew all too well. One she did not reciprocate. She wasn’t even sure if she knew how to anymore. Still she gave him a small smile “You too, and promise me you will leave if anything goes wrong.”

He hesitated before he gave her a nod, at the same time as he landed the shuttle within the station walls. There was no going back now, she thought as she headed for the ramp.

It started to lower at her approach, and she could see a retinue waiting for her, down on the hangar floor. Holding her head high, she took confident strides down. Until she stood head to head, with who she assumed was the commanding officer. She might be the smaller of the two, but she stared him down regardless.

“It’s an honour Inspector” the man said uncertainly. Padme did not let her features relax.  She could not risk him seeing her relief. Because so far he seemed to buy her ruse, at least for now. Instead she held up a hand, stalling any further small talk. She wanted this over and done with.

“I want to access to all your records. Personnel data, cargo, security. Everything” she said firmly, as she started walking further into the hangar. Knowing he would follow.

“But everything has already been checked and rechecked after the incident” the man said nervously. “I thought you were here to inspect the station’s new security measures”

Padme stopped, giving him an icy stare. “You will address me properly”

“Off course sir” he said cowed, and Padme pressed her advance.

“There has been a development, and we suspect there might traitor among you” Just like she had hoped the man paled under her scrutiny. Treason was a deadly offence in the empire, everyone knew that.

“Here? Nonsense” he replied looking offended “sir” he added swallowing uncomfortably, as he noticed her dark expression.

“Do you dare contradict a superior officer?” she said sharply, and he shook his head. She continued on, not giving him time to think. “You know how important secrecy is, and the emperor wants to make sure everything is in order. As quickly as possible” She put an emphasis on the word quickly, and the man caught on.

“Off course sir. Right this way” he said and scurried off, increasing her pace she followed. He led her to a large computer room, and luckily wasted no more time in her company.  But not before granting her the access she needed. Padme had to resist the temptation to smile.

If I really was here to check the security measures, I would fire you. She thought dryly as the door closed behind the poor man. Wasting no time however, she quickly turned to the computer terminal. She missed Artoo, he would have been able to copy the data without setting of the security. But bringing him had been too risky. Instead she had to rely on her own mind.

Scrolling quickly through, everything seemed to be in order. Shipping records, supply, refuelling.  All of it. But as expected the records showed some of the material being moved from the mining ships, onto larger supply ships.

Eagerly she read on, looking for records of their final destination. But there was nothing but a blank space. The information retracted. Padme resisted the urge to kick the terminal. All this, and for nothing!

She massaged her temples in frustration. This could not be it. There had to be something here they could use.  

Despair was about to replace frustration, when an image appeared on the screen. It was a crystal. Padme stopped for a moment. It looked like a kyber crystal, like the once used within lightsabers. With a frown, she spun the image around taking in all the crystal facets. Unlike those, this one was immense, and currently aboard this very station.

Having been married to a jedi, she knew the importance of such an object, and the power it could wield. No matter what, she could not let the empire have it.

* * *

 

Carefully she snuck back into the corridor, it had not taken her long to find what she needed. Now all that remained was to reach the reactor. Turning a corner, she heard a commotion just a head, followed by the sound of running feet. Uncertain she stopped, and at that very moment everything went quiet. All the murmuring voices silenced by one single command. 

Her breath caught, and there was a ringing in her ears, as the sound of that voice reverberated through her mind over and over again. It was deep, cold and without compassion.  But she would know it anywhere.

All around her the world seem to come to a standstill. Her legs froze to the ground, refusing to move. Then the voice spoke again, and even a stunned as she was, she managed to make out one single word. Intruder.

When her legs eventually responded, she did the only thing she could do. She turned and ran.

Blood pounded in her ears as she sprinted down the corridor, her legs burning as she ran headlong. Not caring if anyone saw her, unless it was _him_.

Only when she reached the door to the stations power core, did she finally slow down. Leaning forward, grasping her own legs, she gasped for breath. Desperately trying to calm herself.

There was no way back, he was here, and Padme had no doubt the intruder in question was her. With trembling hands, she entered her access code into the door, it worked but she knew it would have alerted them to her location. Now it was only a matter of time.

The chamber ahead was dark, lit only by the blue glow from the reactor located at its centre. A long bridge led across the shaft below. Padme peered over the railing, but it was too far down to even guess how deep it was. She briefly entertained the thought of jumping, at least then the twins would be safe. But no, she would finish the mission first.

Heading further into the chamber, she dug out the thermal detonators she had stolen from the weapons locker. But not before placing one by the door.

Then she crossed the bridge, one detonator would probably have been enough, but she was taking no chances.

Fumbling around in the dark, she worked as quickly as she could. This may very well be her end. Because death would be preferable to capture. “I am sorry” she whispered to the empty darkness, her heart breaking at the thought of Luke and Leia growing up without her.

Hurrying she worked her way around the core, until she found herself ahead of a second bridge, leading to another door on the other side. Perhaps a way out? Hopeful she rushed forward, not noticing the crate at her feet. Tripping she fell on her hands, the remote detonator slipping from her grasp.

The decking scraped her knees bloody, but she did not care. Just as she staggered to her feet, his voice echoed of the walls, sending cold shivers down her spine. She stopped dead, not even daring to breathe.

"Come out. You cannot hide forever" he said, sounding like a dead thing, deep and without humanity.

Forcing herself to move, she slid carefully along the railing.  Staying as close to the shadows as she could.  Desperate to find the door, her hand fumbled carefully in the dark. Until finally, she could feel the door release beneath her fingers. Quickly she pressed it, but nothing happened.

No, no, no, please let it open, she thought, pressing it over and over again to no avail. Desperate she even pushed at it with one shoulder. It didn’t even budge.

"If you tell me who else is part of this. Perhaps I will make it quick" The dark voice rasped again. He was toying with his prey she realised. 

Frantically she looked around for a manual override to the release, but it was too dark. If she had more time she would probably have been able to get through somehow, but the mechanical breathing was moving ever closer. By now she could almost feel it at the back of her neck.

There would be another bridge like this further down, if she could get to it then maybe, just maybe. Carefully she made a move to the slide away from the door. Just then he stepped out onto the bridge in front of her, cutting of her escape. The red light from his lightsabre gleamed as he moved closer at a sedate pace. He knew she was trapped, so he didn’t bother to hurry.

"Ah there you are" he said when he spotted her, and she froze, her heart thudding frantically at her ribs. 

Knowing better than to run from a predator, she remained completely still. Using will alone to keep from fleeing. Because if she ran so would he, and she knew he would catch her. As long as she did not move, he kept up his casual stride towards her, his black cape making him one with the surroundings.

By now he was only a few steps away, and there just to the side of his feet she spotted the detonator, and she knew what she had to do.

Her eyes moved away from it, up his tall frame to the mask. It was hard to distinguish him from the dark all around them, but she could tell he was massive. Padme shook her head in denial. This could not be him, it just couldn’t. This _thing_ was not her beloved husband. Her breath caught in her throat, tears burning in her eyes. Stubbornly she refused to let them fall.

“Speak” He said, taking another step forward, his saber close enough now, to kill. Padme lifted her head up, so the red light could pass by the brim of her cap, illuminating her face. Eyes glassy but defiant.

When he was close enough to see her face clearly, he stopped dead. But he did not speak, made no gasp of recognition. The only clue he knew her, was his double intake of breath, disturbing the steady rhythm of his respirator

To see him like this in real life was very different from watching holo’s of him, and she had watched all she could find. In secret, like a starving woman in a desolate desert, desperately looking for any sign of life. Hoping that somewhere beneath it all, her Anakin lingered, as lost a she was. Unable to help it she still missed him.  The feeling of his arms around her as he hugged her tight. Back then she had liked him being taller than her, it had made her feel safe. Now his size was intimidating. This thing before her, was not Anakin.

They stood there looking at each other for a while, the only sound was his breathing and the humming from the red blade.  He moved his hand slightly, and she felt her entire body tense in fear, in anticipation of a blow. Because as much as she hated to admit it, he frightened her.

Yet all he did was deactivate the blade, and put it away. The mask was expressionless, and because she could not see his eyes, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, or feeling. If he felt anything at all that was. She tried her best to keep calm, but she knew her pain and terror must have been written all over her face.

"Lord Vader" she said coldly, when she could take the silence no longer. He did not reply, but reached a large gloved hand towards her. Instinctively she took a step backwards. The sight of it brought back all the painful memories from their last encounter. The urge to lift her hand up towards her throat was overpowering, but she refrained.

Seeing her move away, the dark hand stopped its forward motion, dropping instead down with a flick of his wrist.  Her cap flew from her head over the railing, and into the dark. During her heedless flight her hair had mostly come out of its tight bun. Without the support of the cap, it came tumbling down her back. No longer as long as it had once been. But it still reached way past her shoulders. She shivered, it felt like he had touched her. Like the dark itself had touched her.

“Padme” he said finally, but he made no more moves towards her. The sound of her name spoken with that deep dark voice, made her feel sick.

“No” she said, shaking her head “I am pretty sure you killed her” And he had in a way. He had shattered her heart into so many pieces, she was not sure why it hadn’t just burst. Luke and Leia, her children that’s why. He must never know. She would die first, and so would he. She would make sure of that.

Lifting her hand up, she let it trail along the railing, turning slightly away from him. Why did he have to be here today of all days. From the intel they had managed to gather, he should have been on the other side of the galaxy right now. In the end it did not matter, it was done. Her own foolish pride had led to this. Why had she not listened to Obi Wan, or to Bail?

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, just to pretend this was not happening. However, the sound of his respirator could not be drowned out. She opened her eyes again, why didn’t he say anything? He just stood there, inhumanly still.

"What are you going to do? Kill me? Go ahead, finish what you started, either way you are chocking the life out of me, at least have the decency to make it quick!" she snapped, getting impatient. She did not like to be toyed with.

"I am not going to hurt you" he said quietly.

Padme laughed, a hollow empty laugh. "Liar" she said bitterly. Turning around she took one step towards him, her fear momentarily forgotten. 

“You have taken everything from me, why not my life?”

“You know why” he replied, hunching back slightly. Taking the opportunity, she swept down as quickly as she could, and before he could stop her, she made a desperate grab for the detonator.

When she had it in her hand, she cast on look back at him “I love you Anakin” she whispered to herself, pressing the button. It seemed they would be together in the end after all.

“No!” Vader moved rapidly grabbing the detonator from her hands, but it was already done. The room started to shake as one after one the charges went off, trapping them there.

Realizing he was too late he threw it away, and instead he headed for her. Lifting her in his arms, before she had a chance to react, he jumped over the railing and into the shaft. Then they were falling.

 Padme had been prepared to die, to take him with her, but now she found herself hanging on for dear life, eyes watering at their speedy decent. The explosions continued overhead, and debris had started to fall around them. Some hit Vader on the helmet, causing him to grunt, but he didn’t drop her.  Just as she started to think they would fall forever, they hit the ground at a run, Vader using the force to soften the blow.

There was a door at the bottom, and it flew open at their approach, Vader continued running and   before she knew it they were in the hangar. A defining alarm booming in the background, drowning out the sounds of chaos all around, as people ran desperately for their ships. Padme could only hope Jay had already fled.

Vader ignored them all. Even those that tried to speak to him. One he even threw out if the way, as he headed for one of the smaller ships. Upon entering he put her down in the co-pilots chair. 

“Buckle up” he said angrily.  In a haze she found herself doing as he said.  Vader had barely dropped he before he got seated, taking off from the hangar at an insane speed.    A pair of supply ships in front blocked their exit. But he made no move to stop, instead he spun their small ship in between. They almost got squashed, part of their ship scraping against the larger of the two. She remembered this kind of crazy flying. Anakin had used to do this. It seemed somethings never changed.

As space became visible the station behind them exploded in a flash of green The shock wave evaporating all ships in its path. That’s was the last thing she saw before the ship jumped to hyper space.  Leaving her alone with Vader. 

Neither spoke. During their escape, there had been no time to think. But now it hit her full force, he knew now. There would be no going back. Nervously she ripped of the leather gloves, throwing them on the floor.

Vader said nothing. But his mask kept turning towards her, then back to the viewport. Then he would push some buttons, and pull some levers. Before the mask tilted towards her again, just as he pulled a lever so hard it snapped.

Padme flinched, pushing back into her seat, trying to increase the distance between them. But there was no place to hide. Anakin had been charismatic. This man, whoever he really was, had a presence that seemed to swallow up the entire room. It felt like being drawn into a large black hole. Padme wanted nothing more than to look away, but her eyes always found themselves drawn back to Vader’s imposing form.

“You are alive.” He said quietly, the black sockets of his mask fixed on her.

It took her a while before she managed to speak. Before adrenaline and fury had driven her. Now it was all gone, and she suddenly felt very small. “Yes” she said, clearing her dry throat. Having no idea what else to say.

To her surprise he said nothing more, asked no more questions. He just stared at her, and she saw him lift his hand toward her, then he hesitated and stopped. Padme realised she had been holding her breath, only releasing it when he lowered the hand back down.

Quickly she unbuckled herself and headed towards the small med bay. She couldn’t do this; she could not bear to look at him like this. He made no protest, he just turned the helmet towards her again. What hid beneath she wondered for what was probably the millionth time.

Anakin where are you? She thought bitterly as she turned away from him. Just as she pressed the door release he spoke.

“The child” he asked almost softly. Panic gripped her heart briefly, before anger took its place. He would not touch them. Not ever. 

“Dead” she said, keeping her eyes firmly on the door. He stayed quiet, and she could only hope he believed her lie.

“Was it a girl?” he asked after a long pause, as if hesitating

“Does it matter?” she asked bitterly, and only then did she turn back to look at him.

“I suppose not” he replied. To her surprise he was not looking at her. But forward towards the blurry stars, as they passed by in the quiet of hyperspace. He was pressing a few button on the panel in front, as cold as ice.

Padme swallowed and entered the empty chamber behind. Taking a deep gasping breath as the door shut behind her. Blocking out the view of him, and that horrible sound of his breathing. Numb she sank down on to the one single bunk in the room. Too heartbroken to even cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!!!! This took a lot longer than I had intended, But so it goes:)


	9. Chapter 9

_But_ _it does matter,_ a voice whispered weakly, as soon as Vader heard the door close behind her.

He knew the origin of that voice, but he never listened to it. He never let it speak.

_You know it does,_ it whispered again, slightly stronger this time. But it was not stronger than he, and as always he silenced it.

At that very moment, there was a sudden loud metallic thud. Vader blinked, before looking down at his feet. The broken lever had fallen from his grip, and was rolling across the decking. Only coming to a standstill, when it hit the co-pilot chair.  Strange, he had not even realised he had still been holding it.

Blinking again, his eyes moved from the lever towards the seat. There, she had been sitting right there. Unless he had been imagining it. But no, he had carried her himself.   Felt her weight in his hands. So light, so fragile. If he had held on too tight, he would have crushed her. He shook his head in confusion. The thing was, he thought he already had.

How was this possible? How could she be real?

Vader shifted uncomfortably in his seat, there was a strange sensation in his chest. One he vaguely remembered knowing, but had long since forgotten. It was the one he had buried with her, enclosed forever within her stone tomb.

Her empty tomb.

He had never seen it. It had been the one place in the galaxy he would not go.   Her loss the only pain he still felt. The only thing he really felt at all, and it had been just another lie.

For a brief moment his anger rose, and he was tempted to go over there and rip the door open. Demand she tell him why she had hidden from him. But he remained seated, staring at the empty seat, not truly seeing it.

There within her familiar brown eyes, he had seen something. Something he did not like, not from her.

Agitated he wrenched his eyes away, catching a glimpse of his own reflection in the viewport as he did. Black and imposing. But that was the point wasn’t it? The mask, the suit, all of it kept others in fear of him, which suited him just fine. However, at this very moment he found himself wishing it didn’t. 

Restless he got to his feet, needing to move. The dark side called to him, spoke of its anger. It spoke of betrayal. He suppressed it, the dark side was his tool. But he knew, right now it was the wrong one. 

So when he turned to face the door, his touch was gentle as he reached out with the force, searching for her. But the bond they had once shared was still broken, its remaining strands tethered to nothing. 

Vader frowned, he had always been able to feel her. Near or far, it had not mattered. But then suddenly she had been gone. Their connection severed, leaving only a dark void behind. She was dead, by his very own hand, or so he had been told. The lever flew through the air, embedding itself in the wall ahead. Apparently there was no end to the lies.

Tightening his fist, he looked down at his hand. It was the same one he had lifted against her.  The rush of the dark side had been new back then. Exhilarating as it finally granted him the power that should always have been his.   He had done it all for her, and in return she had turned from him. Betrayed him.

_Liar,_ the voice whispered accusingly.

Clenching his jaw, he ignored the annoying buzz in his head. Instead he paced across the small cockpit. Why couldn’t she just have waited for him, as he had told her to?

Vader hissed, he knew why. Obi Wan had poisoned her against him, taken her from him. Then left him behind to die, too cowardly to even finish it. He would suffer no such qualms, when he finally found his old master.

Thinking about his vengeance, he waited for the familiar rage to return. Wanting its fury to shut out the confusion.  But it was a dim thing when it came. His thoughts just kept returning to _her_ , and to what he had done.

Abruptly Vader stopped his pacing, he blamed Obi Wan for all of it. Expect for _that._ There was only one person he could blame for _that_.

When he looked up, he found himself standing right outside the door. Closing his eyes, he felt for her presence again. But even this close, there was nothing.  Yet she was there, he knew that. So why then, could he not feel her?

Reaching a hand out, he rested it on the door. His dark fingers splayed across the grey metal, its thin barrier the only thing that separated them. Too him this was no obstacle.  Still he was reluctant to enter, at the same time as he desperately wanted to.

Suddenly it felt like he could not breathe, and with a gasp he bent his head.  For how long he stood like that, taking one breath in, one out, he did not know. His hand not moving from its resting place.

But eventually the sensation passed, like it had never been. Unconsciously he lifted his other hand to press the release, need winning over reluctance.   The door opened with a quiet swoosh, but he did not enter. He just lingered in the doorway mesmerized.  Waiting for something, not knowing what. The who’s and the whys, he had wanted to ask mere moments ago, vanished just at the sight of her. Somehow, right now it did not matter.

_Padme,_ another soft whisper. Annoyed he pushed it away, he did not share. She was his now. Only his, and he was unable to take his eyes away from her. However, what he saw made him frown.

She was slumped forward in the bed, her head bent low, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Soft dark curls hiding her face from view.

Look up, he thought. Look at me.

But Padme did not move, she only gripped her knees harder. That’s when he noticed they were scraped and bloody. Was she hurt? Had he hurt her?

Vader had taken one step into the room, before he even knew what he was doing.

However, as he did, she finally looked up, her dark eyes piercing straight through him.  At the sight he stopped, his heart lurching painfully in his chest.

At that moment he did not need the force to tell him what she was feeling. Her pain and anguish was evident. She was hurt, but he knew it was not from a scraped knee.

Vader opened his mouth to speak. But for the first time in years he felt uncertain, and instead of words, only silence stretched between them. Until Padme straightened, and calmly got to her feet. Every bit as regal as the queen she had once been.  Her eyes however, were like those of someone facing an execution. He would know, he had seen many like it.

Slowly she moved closer, before stopping just outside his reach.

Vader felt his hand twitching. The left one, the one that had never harmed her. His fingernails scraping against the leather, the glove feeling like the barrier it truly was. What he wanted to do was to rip it off. To reach out and touch her just once. To make sure she was real. But he knew, she would never allow it.

Instead he just watched. Padme stared down at her feet for a moment, and he could see her take a deep breath, regaining her courage. She had always been brave.

“Lord Vader” she said when she looked back up at him, and he swore she found his eyes beneath the mask, even though he knew she could not see them. Her voice was cool and distant, nothing like he remembered it.

“Padme” he replied in a daze. Watching in fascination as her chest heaved and fell, with every breath she took. If he touched her, would he be able to feel her heart beating? The ultimate proof of life? At that thought he almost touched her. Almost.

Padme bit her lip, leaning slightly forward. Her shiny eyes were studying him, searching.

“Are you there?” she whispered so softly, he did not think she intended for him to hear. But he did anyway. Vader stiffened, he was standing right there, wasn’t he?

“Anakin please” she said suddenly, taking a small step forward. “Stop this!  This is not who you are.” Her wide eyes pleaded with him, her voice a gentle calling. But she called for someone else.

If anyone but her had uttered that name, they would already be dead. “No. This is exactly who I am!” he said, slashing his hand through the air. “He was powerless and pathetic. I am not. Now the sith will rule, instead of a broken and corrupt republic”

Padme had retreated back a step, at his sudden movement. She was shaking her head, over and over again, as she moved further and further away from him.  This felt very familiar. But unlike the last time, this time she did not cry.

“I knew it, I just didn’t want to” she said sadly, backing away until she hit the wall. “He won, and I lost. We all lost.”

“No” he said again, why couldn’t she see this was for the best? “Don’t you see? I did what I had too. “

“If you honestly believe that, Anakin is truly gone” she said bitterly, shoulders slumping forward. Making her look even smaller than usual. It did not last, and he could see her shake it off, the moment over. “Where are you taking me?” she demanded, all softness gone, only steel remaining.

“To my star destroyer, then to the Imperial Center” he replied, not having given it much thought. There would be time for that later. 

“You are going to hand me over to _him_?” she spat, her eyes flashing furiously.

What was she talking about?

Hand her over? He wasn’t handing her over to anyone. She was his, and he would not let her go again. “You will stay with me” Soon she would come around, understand that what he did brought order. Not suffering. But first he had to fix the mess she had just made. His master would not be pleased.

She scoffed “Do I get any say in this?”

Vader folded his arms across his chest “No, considering what just happened. You don’t know what you have done” he said, and to his surprise she actually smiled. Looking triumphant

“I know exactly what I have done.”  She said, lifting her chin stubbornly. “I know what the crystal can do, you told me remember? After what happened on Utapau. Or have your forgotten that, like you have forgotten everything else?”

_I remember you. Always._ Vader wasn’t sure who’s voice that was.

But he did, he remembered everything. The beginning. the end, and every touch in between. Pain he remembered pain, its anguish leaving him speechless. When he did not respond, she continued on.

“You don’t think I would let you and that monster you call master have it do you? So you can inflict more terror on the galaxy? I don’t know what you intended to do with the crystal. But I would let you have it over my dead body!”

“It almost was” he snapped back, taking a step forward, she paled under his scrutiny, but he ignored it. “We barely made it out of there alive!”  

“Perhaps it would have been for the best if we hadn’t” she whispered, pressing up against the wall behind her, lips trembling. Only then did he realise he had cornered her, and was pointing a finger in her face.      

_Don’t_ hurt _her!_ the voice said. But this time it was not a whisper, but a command.  Vader snarled at it, he had no wish to harm her. 

Carefully he let his arm drop, taking a step back to give her some space. She remained pressed against the wall, not moving.

“Do not fear me.” He said as softly as he could. One day she would see, she was the only one in the galaxy that never had to.

“I didn’t once” she said, studying him with shiny eyes.

“Even after I was told all you had done. I never occurred to me that I had to be afraid of you. Not for a moment. A mistake that nearly cost me my life, not to mention my child. Forgive me if I don’t repeat it.” She said quietly, before leaning back against the wall closing her eyes.

My child, not their child. It had been his too. “You will see, soon you will understand”

Padme laughed then, opening her eyes. It was a cold and empty laugh, devoid of any joy. “I do wonder” she said bitterly, her tone harsher then he had ever heard it.

“Do you actually believe in your own lies?”

This time he was the one that turned and left. He had seen her smile, seen her rage, seen her despair. But never had he seen her bitter. This was not the Padme he remembered, and he did not know what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vader is shocked, but very much still Vader, if not a little unhinged. This wont be easy for either of them. I do, like I have said before deviate a bit from canon. So fingertips was not a mistake, he still has his left hand.
> 
> About Utapau: Anakin and Obi Wan go there (love their banter in this) , and discover a kyber crystal in the process of being sold to the seperatists. They later have to destroy it, before Grievous gets a hold of it. Its from the unfinished 7th season of TWC.


	10. Chapter 10

He left her alone after that, but his presence lingered long after he was gone. Padme felt foolish, having called out for Anakin like that. She had thought by now she had come to terms with it, but seeing him had brought it all back. For a moment hope had come uninvited, surprising her with its intensity.  However, at his words it had shattered, leaving her behind broken all over again.

Hurriedly she wiped her cheek with her sleeves, removing the evidence of her tears. Her legs were trembling, barely able to hold her weight. Sinking back down on the bed, she unbuttoned the jacket with shaking hands. If she could, she would have ripped the uniform of. Hating it, and everything it represented. But there was nothing else to wear, and she felt naked enough already.

That’s when she felt the chain of her necklace. She had not taken it off, she never did.  She had just tucked it safely beneath her shirt, close to her heart. Where she always kept it.

Pulling it out, she gently stroked the etchings with her fingers. It was a simply design. But all the more precious because of it.  He had carved it himself. A gentle boy with nothing to give, except his heart. She held on to it like a talisman, as if holding it could bring him back to her. Curled up in the bed, she lay there for what felt like hours. Until her throat was sore from crying, and all her tears had run dry.

An eternity later there was a gentle knock on the door. To her surprise, the door did not immediately open. If she didn’t reply, would he go away again?

Sitting up, she quickly hid the necklace away, not wanting him to see it. At least for the moment, she was trapped. Pretending otherwise was just silly. “Yes” At her reply, the door opened and his dark presence filled the doorway. He took one step inside, holding out his hand, offering her a bottle.

“What is it?” she asked suspiciously. Eyeing his outstretched hand, like it was a venomous snake.

“It’s just water, I thought you might be thirsty.”

“Oh” she replied, getting up on shaky legs to accept his offering. Had he heard her tears she wondered? Or was he just making sure his prisoner stayed alive.

Whatever the reason, she was thirsty, so she reached out a hand and grabbed it. Careful not to touch him. When she did, he quickly stepped back out again, his hands fiddling with his belt. Making him look less angry, and more uncertain.  “We will arrive shortly”

There was no point in hiding, so she nodded and followed him back into cockpit, ignoring her nerves as she almost brushed up against him. Feeling all cried out and empty, too tired to feel any real fear. When he got seated, so did she.

Watching him carefully out of the corner of her eye, she drank deeply from the bottle. Letting the cold water soothe her aching throat. He was staring straight ahead, avoiding to look directly at her. His dark mask told her nothing. But perhaps the bottle in her hand told her something, something she hadn’t even dared hope.

“Let me go” she whispered the words, but she knew he could hear them. “Please” She didn’t call for Anakin this time, knowing it would only anger him.

“No” Came the terse reply.

“Why not? If you don’t want to kill me. Then what do you want?” At her angry words his helmet snapped around to face her, but he didn’t say a word.

Unable to help herself, she flinched. On Mustafar Vader had held her close at first, his touch greedy and possessive. At the time she had been to stressed to think about, but it had felt different from how Anakin had used to hold her. Less like love, and more like ownership, and when he thought she had stepped out of line he had turned on her. Punished her. She didn’t trust he would not do so again. Perhaps it was best he just did so now, she thought bitterly. Before he saw through her lies. If not him, then Palpatine.   

Fear returned then, not for herself, but for the twins, and for what would happen if he ever found them. Some of her terror must have shown on her face, because he quickly looked away. Dejected she put the bottle away, one kind act didn’t mean anything, she was just fooling herself.

The ship left hyperspace, a fleet of star destroyers coming into view just ahead. His fleet, she eyed it with hatred. The same one that had claimed Kieran’s life, and probably countless others. It would do her no good to forget who this man was, and who he wasn’t. Not anymore. Pleading would not work.

“He will kill me, you do know that by now, don’t you?” she said carefully, changing her tactics. Anakin had always been protective. If he she was to be Vader’s possession, perhaps a part of that still remained.

“I will protect you” he said stiffly. Padme sank further down into her seat. The more she saw of Vader, the more she could believe he had once been Anakin. Both were equally arrogant.

“But who will protect me from you” she added bitterly.

The ship slowed its approach, and she could see him bend his head.

“You are safe Padme” he said softly. It sounded almost like a promise, which just made it worse. Promises could so easily be broken, and his words meant little to her now.

In her mind the memory of his attack was as clear as the day it had happened, and part of her wanted to lash out at him for what he had done.  Angry bitter words rested spitefully on her tongue, but she bit them back. She knew nothing about this man, except for one thing. He was volatile and dangerous.  Looking ahead instead, she could see a star destroyer moving ever closer. Once there, she knew he would have sealed her fate. No matter what he said, she would never be truly safe with him.

“Then what is your plan? Lock me up in a cell? Keep me against my will?”  she asked, glaring at him, though he still avoided her gaze.

“I would rather that was not necessary” he replied. It wasn’t even a no.

“I think you know me well enough to know, I will never condone any of this! So why bother” She bit out, fuming. He had taken their father from the twins, and now he would take their mother too. In that moment she hated him. Him and his selfishness.

“You are my wife, you belong with me!” he snapped suddenly, clenching one fist. She was surprised he didn’t just say, she belonged _to_ him.  

However, she was not his wife, and never would be. “You are not my husband. I am not yours. I am his, only his. Always.” The words came tumbling out from some deep buried part of her, slipping past her lips before she could stop them. It was the truth, even now, she would always love the man he had once been. But she would never love this _thing_ , never.

They spoke no more after that. Just sat there in awkward silence, like strangers. Because they were strangers now. Two people who had once held each other so close, were now further apart then they had ever been.

Defeated she looked away, not bothering to try again. What was the point? There was no way he would let her go willingly. Her only choice was to run. The problem was, she knew he would never stop following her. If she ran home, she risked leading him straight to the twins, and she would rather die, then let that happen.

By now they were almost on top of one of the star destroyers, and Vader turned the ship away from the main landing bay, to a smaller one closer to the bridge. The large expanse of the star destroyer stretching out beneath them. It had been years since she had seen one up close.  Not that she had wanted too.

Vader was speaking to someone on the ships communicator, as the ship passed through the hangar shield before landing softly on the decking.

Then it was done, she was well and truly trapped. Numbly she followed him from the ship, there was nothing else she could do, at least not for now. 

Vader leaned down towards her, speaking quietly, as an imperial officer came rushing towards them

“Say nothing”

What could she say? She doubted, help me would do her any good. So she remained quiet as the young officer came to a stop, right in front of them.

“Lord Vader” he said, eyes darting nervously between Vader and the floor. “We just heard the news, I am glad to see you are well. It–”

Vader held up a hand, interrupting him

“Captain Alden, see to it that she has what’s she needs, and I want her close. No questions asked. Understood?” He said, indicating her with one gloved hand. “Lock her up on my floor. And keep it quiet.”

Captain Alden finally took notice of her, a frown creasing his brow as he took in the state of her uniform. It was ripped in some places, and she hadn’t bothered to button the jacket again.  On top of that, her curly hair was an absolute mess. Right now she hardly measured up to imperial standards, she thought dryly. In truth she looked like she had been mauled by a wild animal. Or a man.

Alden hesitated for a moment, looking rather confused. Vader had not called her a prisoner, but he had stated she should be locked up. Apparently deciding she was one, he made a grab for her arm to haul her away.

Before he could reach her however, Vader’s hand shot out grabbing his arm, squeezing it. Painfully, if the officer’s expression was anything to go by. “You will treat her with the same respect, that you would offer me.” Vader hissed, squeezing again before letting go.

“Off course my lord” Alden stuttered, taking a step back before offering her a small bow. All Padme could feel at this display was sadness. This man was terrified of Vader, and she knew he had every reason to be. So did she.

Vader stared down at her as he spoke. For a brief moment she was tempted to reach up, and rip the mask from his head in pure spite. Or was it curiosity?

“Now, Captain Alden”

“Off course Lord Vader, I will see to it at once.” Alden replied, standing to attention, having seemingly recovered from the shock.

“See to it that you do. Anything goes wrong, and I will hold you personally responsible.”

Captain Alden swallowed, looking very young for a moment. Reminding Padme that many imperials were just people doing what they had to, to survive. Many on the station she had just destroyed probably had as well. How many of them were now dead? She swallowed, pushing the thought away.

Vader nodded, his mask lingering on her for a long moment, before he turned and left. Leaving her there with Alden. She stared at his cape as he walked away, following it until he turned a corner and vanished from sight. Though he had no hurt her, she felt bruised nonetheless.

“Please come with me my lady” Alden said. Blinking, she turned to look at him. He had gentle eyes, that were now looking at her with something akin to pity. “I will take you to your quarters, and find you some clothes.”

“Not a uniform please” she said, following him out from the hangar, in the opposite direction to Vader. Feeling slightly baffled he had walked away.

“I will see what I can do” Alden looked kind, but looks could be deceiving. Yet it was always worth a try. Vader had given her a little more than he should have, when he had interjected on her behalf. She would be a fool not to use it.

“Where are we?” she asked, as they walked down another corridor.

“Lord Vader didn’t tell you?” he asked studying her, probably trying to figure out who she really was.  

“It all happened rather sudden after the attack.” She replied, pulling slightly at her ruined uniform. “There was no time”

“It’s a quarantine of a minor mid rim planet. Nothing more” he replied rather reluctantly.

It seemed he would not be too forthcoming after all.

“Ah, if it isn’t Vader’s new pet.” A voice interjected before she could pry any further.  A tall man came walking down the corridor towards them. For a moment she thought he was talking about her, making her bristle at the use of the word pet. Opening her mouth, she was about to snap at him, until she noticed Alden’s pained expression.

“I am busy Dolros” Alden replied, urging her ahead, being very careful not to touch her.

“I assumed you have realised by now, why it’s a promotion no one wants. It’s a rather short lived one. Especially if you take time out for a woman, no matter how pretty she is. Vader doesn’t like men that skip out on their duty” Dolros added, studying her intently, before his eyes narrowed with interest “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“What are you doing here? This is Vader’s floor.” Alden interrupted stepping in front of her, before she had a chance to reply. The man did look indeed look familiar. However, she could not seem to recall from where.

“Just passing through” he added, trying to peer at her over Alden’s shoulder,

“Well, leave!” Alden snapped, shielding her. “Or I will have you removed”

Dolros just shrugged, before walking away. Casting one last glance at her as he did, lips pursed in a small smile.

Alden hurried her after that. Walking past several doors, before depositing her in a spacious, but sparse suite. It looked desolate and empty, like it had never been used.

“No one ever stays here.” Alden said, at her expression. “Lord Vader doesn’t like anyone to close to his rooms”

“His rooms are here?” she asked with interest. The initial shock of seeing him was starting to recede, and since she was still breathing why not make the most of her predicament. If he thought she would sit here meekly, he had forgotten who he had married in the first place.

“Only two doors down. But do not go there!” he said, looking alarmed at her thoughtful expression.  ” Unless you have a death wish” he muttered under his breath, before clearing his throat “Just stay here, and I will return with come clothes.” With that he left, shutting the door behind him as he went.

As soon as she could no longer hear his footsteps, she moved over to the door testing it, but it was locked. Though she had expected no less. Frustrated she looked around her grey prison. No windows off course. Not that it would have helped, she could hardly escape into space.

Padme had inspected every corner of the room finding nothing of interest, by the time Alden returned bringing with him the promised clothes, and a medical droid. She must look worse than she initially thought.

But she knew there was nothing wrong with her. Except perhaps a broken heart. Though for that there was no cure. Yet, she let the droid pinch and prod her, before it bandaged her knees. Somehow she doubted this was how Vader normally treated his prisoners. Alden seemed to be thinking the same, as she caught him staring curiously at her.

“Is there anything else you want my lady” he asked, looking almost guilty. Strange.

“Tell me the name of the planet?” she yawned, suddenly feeling very sleepy. Drowsy Alden helped her to the bed.

“I am sorry.” He whispered, tucking her in.  “He wanted you to rest.”

Vaguely she heard him leave, the door opening and closing behind him, the room darkening as he turned the light off.

She didn’t hear or see, much after that.  She did not hear the door opening again, or feel the warm hand gently stroking her cheek.  So softly, like it was afraid she might break at the touch.

Nor did she hear a familiar voice whisper her name.  No, that must have been just a dream.

She blinked, as dream slowly became reality. “Anakin?” she called, feeling too weak to move. The hand quickly vanished, its bearer retreating to the shadows. Sleep reclaimed her then, the memory of a gentle touch vanishing back into her dreams.


	11. Chapter 11

The walls of the oval meditation chamber reflected his pale face back at him. Drawing a deep breath into his ragged lungs, Vader looked away. For some reason at that very moment, the sight bothered him.

Tugging his left glove off, he looked down at his hand, fletching his fingers.  She had felt warm. Real.  Every bit as soft as he remembered. Unbidden, other memories of touching her skin came rushing forward, the sensation disconcerting. He had tried to forget all of that, he had no need for the weakness of the flesh now, or so he had thought.

He rubbed his thumb against his fingers, each and every digit, longed to feel her warmth again. Part of it lingered even now, several hours later. He hadn’t touched anyone skin to skin, not truly. Not since her. Not since.

 _Mustafar,_ the voice whispered shamefully.

Vader clenched his jaw so tight, his teeth rattled. The voice was a constant companion now. At every distracted moment it would whisper. Taunt. Accuse. Murmur a never ending tirade of lies. The dark would push it away. Its power would silence the cry. But he was reluctant to draw too deep. To bury himself within in its rage. He was…

_Afraid._

No, he hissed. He feared no one, not now. Who out there was his equal? His raw power was unmatched by anyone, all he lacked was more knowledge. There his master was still ahead. But not for long, not forever. And then he would—

 _You will hurt her,_ the voice interrupted.

“No!” he snarled. Out loud this time. His own voice echoing off the chamber walls. It sounded strange to his ears. Too soft, too weak. Weak like he had once been. But no more. Only he could protect her now.

_Let her go._

Never. She was his, and he would keep her. Angrily he ripped the other glove off, exposing the metal. Tightening the mechanical hand into a fist, he studied it. This was strength, it did not bleed, nor tire. It would not fail, and neither would he. Not this time.

_You know he will never allow it._

Vader wanted to snarl at it again, but he calmed himself. The voice always spoke nonsense, but this part was true, he knew that. Even if his master did not directly act, he would use her against him.  She was a weakness. For now, he would have to keep her hidden.

Slowly he lowered the helmet back down. It sealed him within with a hiss, colouring the world around him in red. Everything was again as it should be. The whispers nothing more than whispers now.

Summoning Captain Alden to his private quarters, he left the mediation chamber. Vader could not afford to delay much longer. The emperor wanted him back at the Imperial Center, to answer for his failure no doubt. Padme’s actions had set them back months, years even, but he could not muster up the effort to care, not now.

The door to his quarters opened, and Captain Alden took an uncertain step inside. Vader was not unaware of the reasons the boy had been brought to him. However, so far his job had been satisfactory, his particular circumstances proving to be rather useful.

“Yes, Lord Vader,” Alden said, eyes widening when he spotted Vader’s flesh hand. Vader resisted the urge to clench it into a fist, he was becoming complacent. In his distraction he had forgotten his gloves, and he never forgot anything.

“Bring her to me.”

Alden hesitated briefly, before speaking, “Off course my lord.”

Vader narrowed his eyes, this was new. “What is it Captain Alden?” he asked sharply.

Alden winced at his tone, shuffling his feet. “Nothing, sir.”

Vader folded his hands across his chest, tapping one human finger against the leather, drawing Alden’s gaze. “Do not make me ask again.”

“It’s just, a moment ago you asked me to feed her my lord, and to make sure she ate this time,” Alden reminded him, looking up at Vader’s mask, swallowing hard.

Vader frowned, letting his hands fall back down. Oh, so he had. So far Padme had refused all he had offered her, her food returned barely eaten. He would not tolerate her harming herself.

“Let her finish,” he said, waving Alden off before he spoke again. “Then bring her to me.”

Alden nodded looking relieved, then quickly turned to leave. But Vader stopped him before he could reach the door. “Take her to the small observation deck, when done.”

“Yes, sir.”

As soon as the door closed behind Alden, Vader turned to mediation chamber, the gloves flying through the air, before landing in his outstretched palm. There was more than one thing he wanted to talk to his wife about. He was no fool; he knew she was hiding something. However, his regular methods of extracting information were out of the question. Here a different approach was needed.

Finding it impossible to stay still, he put the gloves back on, leaving his quarters. He would wait for her there, and perhaps she would see reason this time.

_Fool indeed_

Vader shut the door behind him, silencing the voice within as he did, he had no time for its nonesense.

* * *

 

The sound of Alden returning, made Padme look up from her full plate frowning, he looked a lot paler then when he had left. She almost opened her mouth to ask if he was alright, but stopped herself. He was one of her captors after all.

“Won’t you please eat something, my lady?” he said softly, when he spotted her untouched meal.

Pointedly she eyed it dubiously, picking at it hard with her fork, before glaring up at him. “Why? Is it poisoned?”

Alden looked chagrined, “Sorry my lady.  I was just following orders last night.”

Padme sighed, relaxing her features. It was not fair to take out her ire out on him, it was Vader she wanted to stab with her fork. “Won’t you at least keep me company?” she asked, before he had a chance to leave again. “It’s dull to eat alone.”

“I am not really supposed to talk to you,” he replied reluctantly, keeping his distance. Padme knew he didn’t know what to make of her, and right now she didn’t know either.

“I think he meant you can’t ask me any questions, not the other way around. Please sit down,” she added, pointing at the chair in front of her.

“Alright,” he replied, trying to give her a stern look, however it was at odds with his friendly face. “But don’t think I don’t know what you are up to. And only if you eat something.”

She bit back a smile, taking a small bite of her food. Not that she had an appetite. When she did, Alden got seated, removing his cap and running a hand through his blond hair. It seemed she was not the only one who was having a bad day.

“How long have you been working for him?” she asked carefully, letting her full fork hover in front of her mouth, not eating anymore until he answered.

“Not long, I just got transferred,” he replied, looking dreamily away from her and into the room. A pity, in that case he would probably not be able to tell her much, she thought as she chewed. Though if she was completely honest with herself, probing wasn’t the only reasons she had asked him to stay. She felt lonely, and bored.

“You didn’t want to be?” she asked, and when he didn’t reply she started to put the fork down. Alden’s obsession with her eating, was clearly an order from _him._ If he wanted her to eat, he would have to talk.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head while pointing at her fork. “The truth is I am not much of a military man.”

She complied, taking another bite.” Yet you’re a Captain, and a young one at that.”

Alden sighed, before meeting her eyes. “I suppose it doesn’t matter if I tell you or not, its common knowledge after all. The truth is I come from a long line of military men. But unlike my older brothers, it was never my wish to go down this path, but my father insisted.”

“Why not leave then? I know I would if I could,” she muttered, and he gave her a look so full of sympathy she almost chocked on her food. He was right, he did not belong here.

“I can’t,” he whispered, a shadow passing across his features. “There was an incident,” he trailed off, before shrugging. “Well let’s just say, my father pulled some strings, and here I am. If I succeed, well good. If I fail,” he grimaced, “He no longer has to deal with the embarrassment.”

“What happens if you fail?” she asked, his bleak expression making her dread the answer.

“Lord Vader does not tolerate failure,” he replied quietly, and she didn’t need him to say anymore. Not really.

“He kills his own men,” she whispered to herself, before dropping the fork, what little appetite she had now gone. Anakin had been a great general for the most part, if not a little reckless. However, he would never have harmed his own men, not deliberately. Why Vader’s acts kept shocking her, she could not say. But they did, each added monstrous act felt like being stabbed in the chest over and over again. Each new wound, an added reminder that Anakin was gone.

“No,” Alden replied rather vehemently, noticing her horror. “It’s not quite like that. If you do your job well, you have nothing to fear from Vader.”

“Is that so?” she asked dubiously. “I imagine he is dangerous if he loses his temper, failure or not. To anyone.” Even to her, she had learned that the hard way. Suddenly the collar of her shirt felt too tight. Lifting a hand, she loosened it, before taking a deep breath. Trust was a fragile thing, once broken, it was very hard to fix. If it ever could be.

Alden remained quiet confirming her assumptions. Feeling slightly sick pushed her plate away, she could not eat another bite.

“Be careful my lady, and you may yet survive this,” he said gently, before he got to his feet, straightening his uniform. Not knowing, it was not her own life she feared for.

“Perhaps, but I will never be free again,” she replied quietly. Something in his eyes told her, he knew the feeling, but it quickly faded. “He wants to see you now.”

Resigned she got up. There was no point in fighting, not yet. “I suppose he does,” she replied, pulling at her dark shirt with disdain. It was not quite a uniform, but still. “You don’t have any brighter colours? I hate black.”

“It was that or an orange jumpsuit,” Alden replied, with a small smile, and she got the feeling he was trying to cheer her up.  For a brief moment it worked, and she smiled back, almost wishing he had brought her one. What would Vader have thought of that, she wondered.

Alden took a look down at her barely touched plate raising an eyebrow, before holding his hand out to her. “Give me the knife, my lady,”

“You can’t blame me for trying,” she replied, reluctantly removing it from her pocket. Alden took it with a sigh, before turning to the door.

* * *

 

Padme followed Alden down the corridor, it was deserted, the dark grey walls dismal and depressing. Although she had been on a star destroyer before, this felt different. No longer was it a vessel fighting for a dying republic.  Now it was a tool of oppression. And her prison.

They didn’t walk far before they stopped outside a large door. Alden turned to her before it opened, looking troubled “Stay safe my lady,” he said, with a small bow. While taking a step back, making it very clear she was on her own.

She nodded, giving him a brave smile. Even in a place like this there was still kindness. It helped lift her spirits a bit, before she stepped into the dark room beyond, the door closing swiftly behind her.

Padme blinked letting her eyes slowly adjust to the dark. On the far side of the room a large viewport dominated the room. Other than that, there was no furniture, just a single bench facing the window. At first she thought there was no one there. But then she spotted him, a solitary black figure standing to one side of the viewport, head bent towards the stars.  

She stopped, hesitating for a moment, unconsciously touching a hand to her cheek. She could have sworn he had touched her last night, but that could not be, could it?

“I hope your room is satisfactory,” he said, the sound of his dark voice making her drop her hand. No, something so cold, could not be gentle. It just wasn’t possible.

Unwilling to appear afraid, she walked over to the viewport. Close enough to see him clearly, but not close enough for him to touch her.

“It’s nice,” she said sharply, leaning a hand on the window frame. “For a cell.”

He turned towards her, his cloak falling to the side exposing the man beneath, but there was nothing there she recognized, not anymore. “It’s for your own protection.”

“I didn’t need this kind of protection before you showed up,” she reminded him.

“No, clearly not. You were too busy trying to kill yourself,” he said coldly. “Do tell me, have you been playing at the rebel for long?”

“Playing?” she snapped at him, “Believe me, I am not playing at anything. I leave that part up to you.”

Vader folded his hands across his chest, “I see you intend to make this difficult, I had hoped that would not be the case, “he replied calmly, moving a bit closer. “The republic was corrupt Padme, and now it’s gone. This rebellion will only cause more conflict. Aid me, and I can end it. Once and for all.”

She shook her head sadly, taking a step back. She had been a queen, then a senator, and good at her job for the most part. But at this moment all her talents failed her. She did not know what to say, or do to bridge the gap between them. “It may not have been perfect, but it was better than this. You were better than this,” she said quietly.

He did not follow her this time, just tilted his head to look down at her. She resisted the temptation to hug herself, his presence seemed to be draining the warmth out of the room. Draining it out of her.

“Where have you been Padme?” he asked suddenly, trying to catch her off guard, and it worked. Her heart sped up at the question. Even though she knew this had been coming, had expected it, even prepared for it. But now all rehearsed lies fled from her mind, leaving it blank.  

“That is none of your concern,” she bit out, when she finally managed to speak.

“Very well,” he replied, not seeming surprised at her answer. Instead he pressed a button on his comlink. As he did the star destroyer started to turn, and the planet below coming slowly into view. Padme could not help the gasp that escaped her lips, her hand tightening around the frame until her knuckles went white. It seemed she was a lot closer to home, then she had thought. A moment ago all she had wanted to was to go home, but now she wished she was as far away as possible.

“I see you know the place,” Vader drawled, his voice seeming to come from some place far away. Trying to make her expression as neutral as possible, she forced herself to let go of the frame, even though her legs were shaking.  This was not happening He didn’t have them. He couldn’t.

Even though her mind was a maze of terror, she managed to look over at him and speak. “I know the place,” she admitted, there was no point in lying. That part she had stupidly given away. But she would give him nothing more. Never.

“Because of Obi Wan?” he asked casually, though there was nothing casual about the question.

She felt herself stiffen, the last time he had asked her that question, he had almost killed her. Had he forgotten, or was he just being cruel.  “Is this an interrogation?”

Slowly he moved closer, speaking softly, “It doesn’t have to be. Just tell me what I want to know Padme, and this can all be over.”

Padme took a deep breath, calming her nerves. So far he had not mention the twins. That was a good sign, surely. “Still killing jedi are we?”

“It’s necessary.”

Moments ago she had been trembling, but now her terror turned to rage. “There is never a good reason to kill innocent people,” she snapped, taking a step towards him.

He mirrored her gesture, stopping just a small step away from her. So close that their boots were almost touching. She craned her neck to look up at his mask, practically vibrating with rage.

“They were not innocent,” he replied. Her fury evaporated at his words, leaving behind only the heartbreak. He was so lost. So broken. How could this have happened? How could she not have known? In his own way he had tried to tell her, and she hadn’t listened.

“They were,” she whispered, her heart aching for him. For them both. “And so were you.”  He stared down at her in silence. The respirator hissing in and out, over and over again, hypnotizing her with every breath. Was there anything left of him, behind that mask, she wondered. Was he in pain? Did he feel anything at all?

After a long while he stepped away, his cape brushing up against her as he turned to stare down at the planet below. “I know he was here Padme. I will find out where he has gone sooner or later, so you might as well tell me.”

Relief flooded her, but she did not dare let it show. If Vader did not know, the twins were safe. Obi Wan would never have abandoned them. Not while he was still breathing.

“Even if I did know, I would never tell you,” she said, following his gaze. The small green planet had been exile, but also a safe haven. And she had left it behind, arrogant enough to risk them all. Yet, she knew in her heart, Vader had not known she was alive. She could not have led him here.

Vader stiffened, but he did not turn back around. “Your loyalty to him is touching.”

Tears pricked her eyes at his words, once he had loved Obi Wan like a brother, a friend. Now his hatred blinded him, to everything. “He is my friend, like he once was yours,” she said sadly, knowing her words would change nothing.

“Were you with him?” he asked, resting a gloved hand on the glass. Padme stared at the back of his cloak in confusion, for a moment he had sounded almost jealous.

“I never stayed anywhere too long, certainly not with a jedi,” she replied, the lie falling easily from her lips. Even if he didn’t believe her, it didn’t matter, Obi Wan and the twins would be long gone now, and she would never betray them.

“Because you were afraid I would find you?” he asked quietly, hunching slightly forward. For a moment he almost looked small.

“Can you blame me?” she asked, her voice quavering. The words she had spoken, and those she had not, hung heavily in the air between them. How could you? You of all people. How could you hurt me, hurt our babies?

Vader made no response. She was starting to realise he did that, when he did not know what to say. After a very long time he let his arm fall from the viewport, slowly turning around to face her.

“No,” he said simply.

The accusations she had been ready to hurl at him stopped on her tongue, and she just stared at him in shock. This was not what she had expected. Not that she knew what she had been expecting. It had been years since she had last seen him, and all she knew of him now, was stories. None of them good.

Carefully he lifted a gloved hand towards her. When she did not move away, he cupped her cheek in his palm. To her surprise she let him, legs frozen in place. In terror or hope, she did not know.

“Anakin?” she asked, blinking back tears, as she stared into his dark eye sockets, the leather rough against her skin. Not soft and warm, like in her dreams.

“I…” he hesitated, before shaking his head, his hand moving down to her throat, caressing it gently. Padme’s breath caught, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. For a moment she had almost stepped away, but his gentle touch held her more tightly than a violent grip ever could.

“Don’t,” he said gently, and she didn’t realise she was crying until he wiped away a tear with a finger. “I won’t hurt you again.”

She bit her lip to prevent herself from sobbing, and throwing herself forward into his arms, suit or no suit. But she didn’t. “I don’t believe you,” she said bitterly, his dark presence blurring before her eyes.

“You will,” he said confidently. He was domineering and self-assured, and for the moment gentle. But she had seen the rage, and knew it still lingered within. But if there was no light left, how could there be any gentleness?

“Then prove it,” she said pulling away from him. “Let’s leave this place. Together. Now.”

“I can’t,” he replied, still holding his hand out towards her, but she ignored it. “I won’t.” His words didn’t surprise her, she had expected this much. She stared down at his hand, if not for the twins, she would have taken it. If there was just one tiny little flicker of Anakin’s light in there, she would have grabbed hold, dug her heels in and never let go.  But she couldn’t she risk the twins on a maybe. She had to leave.

"And I can't stay here. If you ever really loved me, please let me go,"

He dropped his hand, the moment over. Anakin had never taken rejection well. "No."

"So it seems your love for me was always about yourself," she whispered, turning to leave. She was done with his interrogation.

"I know there is more you are not telling me," he said, as she reached the door. "And you will tell me, sooner or later."

"Make me," she told him, opening the door, not bothering to listen for his response. Alden was waiting for her in the corridor looking anxious. When he saw her tears, he was there in an instant.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, fussing around her. But she shook her head. "Just take me to my cell." He nodded and led her away.

Though she had lied, she was hurt, the pain excruciating. But something else lurked within her heart now as well. Stopping for a moment, she looked back down the corridor, touching a hand to her cheek. For just an instant she had felt him. Obi Wan, Bail, all of them were wrong. Some part of Anakin lingered still, the question was. Was it enough?

**Notes;**


	12. Chapter 12

Anakin had come home fuming that night. Now he was pacing restlessly across the room, his long strides wearing a groove into the carpet.

Weary Padme leaned back in the sofa. The baby felt agitated, kicking relentlessly against her ribcage. It did little to help her own unease.

“Anakin, please calm down. Wont you sit with me instead? “she asked offering him a small smile, while patting at empty space next to her on the sofa. But he just ignored her, walking up and down in front of her a few times more. Finally, after ripping off his cloak off and throwing it over a chair, he turned towards her.

“Who is it they send to win their battles?” he asked, his blue eyes angry and cold.  “It’s me,” he added, indicating himself with one hand. “I defeat their enemies. I win more battles than all of them combined. Yet still they don’t trust me.”

It was about the council again. She had expected as much. “They do trust you Anakin,” she said softly, hoping her gentle tone might appease his anger. But it did not seem to be working, because he just scoffed. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to reach him, and it worried her.  

“To fight yes. To go out there, and act as their weapon. And when I do just that, they accuse me of being reckless and volatile.”

Padme bit her lip, she doubted her pointing out, he was being rather volatile lately would help. “Give it time.”

“I have,” he snapped, resuming his pacing “They have made it very clear they do not wish me on the council, and at this rate they will never make me a master.”

The baby kicked again, and Padme rubbed her belly gently, trying to soothe him, or herself. Most likely it was both. She knew validation from the council was important to Anakin, yet how could he continue to serve after the baby was born? They hadn’t talked about it any further, it never seemed to be the right time. Now was certainly not it, not when he was in this mood.

“Don’t you think Palatine overstepped his authority, when he appointed you to the council in the first place? He is not a Jedi after all,” she asked carefully. Palpatine was doing a lot of thing she didn’t like lately, but Anakin did not want to hear any of it.

At her words his eyes narrowed, and the look he gave her caught her of guard. Padme knew he had a temper, but he usually never aimed it directly at her.

“Do you doubt me now as well?” he asked, coming to a standstill just in front of her.

“Off course not Anakin, you know that,” she replied, craning her neck, so she could look up into his eyes. They remained distant. Padme could not help the sorrow she felt, from showing on her face. All their married life had been during war and conflict, leaving very little time for anything else. Every time Anakin came back from the war, he was angrier than when he had left. He smiled less, his eyes growing more dull and empty. It felt like he was retreating into himself, and away from her. War did that to people, it changed them, and usually not for the better.

“What?” he asked, looming over her. She knew he could feel her hurt, that was part of the problem. Anakin felt too much, too deeply. Not only did he feel his own pain, in a way he felt the pain of those he loved as well. It must be exhausting.

“Nothing,” she replied, looking down into her lap.  Even though he was standing right there she felt lonely. Lately when she tried to speak to him, he tended to get defensive. Right now, when she needed him the most. When they did, she thought rubbing her belly again.

“Padme?” he asked again, and she knew he would not give up until she replied.

Relenting she looked at him again. “It’s just that you are so angry lately. I miss how things used to be, how you used to be.” It was as much as she had ever dared to say on the subject. It was not Anakin’s fault that the war did not end. He was not doing any of this to deliberately hurt her. In fact, she knew his anger was just hiding his own hurt. But if he refused to talk to her, or anyone else, how could it ever heal?

Anakin said nothing, his eyes softening just a fraction, before the anger won. He offered no smile to reassure her. “Nice won’t win this war Padme” he bit out instead. “Kindness won’t protect my men from dying in droves, as this war continues on.”

“Then what will?” she asked, pushing herself up from the sofa to stand before him “How far are you willing to comprise yourself to win? Which seems to be the only thing that matters these days.”

“I will do what it takes,” he replied, with a stubborn tilt to his chin. She sighed, there was no talking to him when he got like this, not anymore. Lifting her hand she touched his arm.

“We are doing our best in the senate to resolve this peacefully. The chancellor should be helping our efforts, not hindering them,”

He scoffed again. “The senate is useless. Have you forgotten it was you that saved your people, not the republic.  You acted, and did what you needed to save them while the senate sat idle, willing to let your people die.”

“I was their elected Queen. It was my job!” she replied, dropping her hand. It felt like he had insulted her, she was after all a senator. Yet, she was unable to deny the charge. She still remembered the hopelessness she had felt, when the republic had refused her aid. But that didn’t mean she was ready to give up on the democracy.

“Exactly, and the chancellor has plenty of supporters. With enough power, he could end this war. Instead of thousands of systems arguing, so that nothing ever gets done. If its left up to the senate. it will burn down around them before they seize bickering, and probably not even then.”

“And you think the chancellor is any better? He takes more power for himself every day. Once you would have agreed with me that was corruption. Your belief in him is naive.”

Anakin froze, snapping his jaw shut. It was not the first time she had seen that cold look in his eyes. In those moments, she wasn’t sure if it was Anakin that was looking back at her. His eyes were more like those of a total stranger. Padme stiffened, unconsciously putting a hand across her swollen stomach.

She could tell he noticed her defensive posture. If anything, it made him even more furious. “You are just like the rest of them. Afraid,” he hissed, before storming passed her towards the door “I am going to the Temple,” he said flatly over his shoulder. Starting to feel angry herself, she followed him.

“Well maybe you should stay there!” she snapped, as he walked across the threshold, turning to look at her, while pressing the door release.

“Fine!” he snapped back, as the door slid shut between them. Padme blinked away her tears, staring at the closed door in front of her. She knew she was more prone to tears these days, because of the baby. However, she wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t have started to cry regardless. To her it felt like more than a door had just slammed shut between them, and she didn’t know what to do open it again.

 

Padme went to bed alone that night. Laying on her side stroking her belly. It was becoming increasingly difficult to get comfortable, but somehow she managed. With each gently rub she told the baby stories about Anakin. She told him, or her, if Anakin was right. About the good man his father was, that he was not usually this angry. About all his heroics, and how he had risked his life to help her the very first time they had met, because that was the kind of man he was. But most importantly, she told her that everything would be better as soon as the war was over, and they would all be together. Because this darkness could not last, forever could it? 

When she ran out of things to say, and her throat started to feel dry, she closed her eyes. For what felt like hours, she lay there all alone unable to rest. Just as sleep was finally about to claim her, she felt him crawl into bed behind her. Pulling her close so hard, it almost hurt.

“I am sorry,” he whispered softly into her ear. One hand reached up to play with her curls, a finger gently grazing her cheek. That’s when he felt it.  Her tears

“Hey, don’t do that,” he said even more softly. Tugging her slightly by the shoulders, he tried to make her turn around to face him. Feeling petty she resisted.

“Padme?” he asked quietly, and she could hear the remorse beneath his words. When he tugged again, she let him pull her around so she was lying on her back. Anakin leaned over her, gently rubbing away her tears.

“Please don’t do that.  I am sorry,” he said again, leaning his forehead gently down onto hers. “I am not angry with you it’s just–” he trailed of, pulling back slightly, away from her again. But this time she would not let him escape.

Reaching up a hand she touched his cheek. It was too dark in the room to see him, his face left in shadows. Yet, she knew his features by heart.

“I know.” she said, running her fingers through his hair. She heard him let out a sigh in relief at her touch.

“You are everything to me Padme, and I don’t want to live without you. You and our baby, I can’t.”

“I am not going to die Anakin.” she said firmly, knowing they were getting to the underlying reason for his stress. “I have been double checked, triple checked even. I am fine, our baby is fine.”

Yet there had been an anomaly, not with her, she was young and healthy. But with the baby, a distortion of some kind. Padme felt grateful for the darkness of the room hiding her eyes, so he could not see her lie. Though she knew he sensed something, because he stiffened.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I am just looking forward to this being over, your child likes to kick. “It was hard, felling torn between telling another lie, and knowing that the truth would probably make him worse. Until she knew what it was, she would keep quiet, hoping Anakin would forgive her. “We are all fine, I promise,” she said, hoping she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life.

“Alright,” he said after a while tucking her down next to him. But she could tell he was not convinced, not truly.

She let him hold her. Running his fingers through her hair like he had always done to soothe her. However, it did not bring her the same comfort it had used to

His other hand moved from her side to rest on her stomach, it felt cold. She had mourned the loss of his arm along with him. But after a while Anakin had gotten used to it, reveled in its extra strength and the power it had given him. It hadn’t bothered her too much by the end either. What really mattered, was the he was alive and here with her. Yet at that very moment, she wished it was human. Desperately needing to feel his warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small flashback while I work on the next chapter.:)  
> Padme and Anakin are both flawed in my opinion.


	13. Chapter 13

Vader was standing in front one of the large windows in the imperial audience chamber, eyes fixed on the busy skyline ahead. From his current viewpoint, he could see the dark outline of his tower visible in the distance. It was close, far too close.

“It seems there is no end to your failures of late,” his master drawled from behind him, disapproval lacing his every word.

Vader closed his eyes, her brown frightened eyes appearing before him as he did. He hated her fear, he had never wanted it.  “I will not fail again, “he replied, as a promise to himself, to her, not to _him._ No, for his master he had a darker promise, one that existed between every sith and his apprentice. One that her presence demanded he fulfil. For it was the only way to guaranty her safety.

With one last glance at his tower, he turned away from the window to face his master. He was seated atop his podium, his wrinkled old face hidden in shadows.

Vader narrowed his eyes, he hated that face, more so now than ever. Too him it was a constant testament to his own folly, and he had been a fool, he knew that now. In fact, some part of him had known it even then. However, what had it mattered? When the rage had cooled down to a steady simmer, she had already been gone. Dead, the pain consuming.  He had carried that ache, fed on it to fuel his rage. It had been all he had left. That and the man before him.

Until _her._

When he caught his first glimpse of her face, his heart had stopped. It was beating again now, thudding painfully in his chest.  Every sluggish beat bringing with it memories of another life, another man. A man he had tried to kill. He looked up to find the emperor staring down at him, eyes narrowed and cold. No trace of fatherly affection there now. In truth, it had never been there to start with. It had all been a lie.

 _I hate him,_ the voice hissed, as if summoned by his thoughts. He did not push it away this time, but added its hate to his own, the dark gathering all around him, filling him.    Eagerly he welcomed the sensation. Soon, very soon he would unleash it.

The emperor’s eyes were searching, glowing golden even in the dim light of the room.  Something had shifted between them, and Vader knew his master could sense it. Firmly he pulled his defences up, using the force to shield himself. He would let no one take her from him again.

The emperor smiled slightly, brushing deliberately against his mind. He wanted Vader to know what he was doing. Angrily Vader pushed back, he was not going to makes this easy. Not this time.

After a while the probing sensation dissipated, the emperor leaning casually back in his chair. Folding his pale hands together, he tapped one finger to his bottom lip. “I sense you are distracted, Lord Vader.”

Without moving his head, Vader let his gaze drift around the room. The royal guard were as always a constant presence, vigilant and unmoving. Their long red cloaks concealed their weapons, but he knew what they hid beneath. They were all lethal, deadly and ready to act in an instant. If it came down to it, he would dispose of them.

“I fear we have been compromised, “he replied, focusing his attention back on the emperor again. Too say nothing would raise suspicion. However, that she was part of it, he would never say. He did not even dare think her name. The mask might hide his eyes, but it did little to hide his emotions. Beneath the emperor’s intense scrutiny, even the voice was wise enough to remain silent.

“Yes,” came the quiet reply, “I sense it too. It seems we have a new enemy.” Slowly Palpatine got to his feet. He looked old and worn, but looks were deceiving. When Vader had tried to kill him all those years ago, his power had ricocheted of the emperor like it was nothing. He would not make that mistake again.

“I have disposed of the rebels at the base, the rest did not survive the explosion. “ he said.

The emperor had been moving closer, but stopped at his words. “Still, I have given the order to have the project relocated. All traces of its presence are to be removed. Permanently,” he said, seemingly giving up on his prying for now. But Vader knew it was only a matter of time before he figured out the truth. In the end, the emperor always found what he sought.

“I will leave as soon as possible,” Vader replied. The further he got her away from here the better. No matter what she thought, he would never allow the emperor to harm her. Never.

“I surprised you are so eager, I expected you would want to resume your search for Obi Wan,” the emperor said smoothly.

Vader blinked, caught off guard, he had almost forgotten about his old master for a moment. Only she occupied his thoughts now. His vengeance would wait.  “When this is done. We cannot afford to suffer any more setbacks.”

The emperor had walked all the way down from the podium now, lifting a hand he rested it on Vader’s shoulder. Vader felt his anger intensify, calling on him to destroy the man in front of him, like Palpatine had once helped destroy him. However, he was wiser than he had been, so he held it back.

“Save your rage for our enemies, old friend,” the emperor chuckled, seemingly not bothered by the hate Vader was sure he was projecting. Palpatine knew he had nothing to fear, he remained the stronger of the two. For the time being, at least. But not forever. Vader nodded. Deception and lies were the way of the sith after all. It seemed in the end, it always came back to the lies.

 _And the loneliness,_ the voice whispered softly.

Vader gritted his teeth, ignoring it. Its weakness he had no need of.  “As always master,” he replied, looking down at the pale hand on his shoulder with disgust. Palpatine made no attempt to hide his dark presence now. But for years he had successfully concealed himself from the jedi order. Which was yet another reason Vader despised them, they had been arrogant and blind. For that they deserved their fate.

 _So, do you_ , it said bitterly.

He silenced its whispers abruptly, bringing his focus back to the present. Although Palpatine possessed the skill needed, Vader doubted he was the one concealing Padme’s presence. No, she was right about that at least, the emperor would wish her death. He almost stepped away at that thought, the hand on his shoulder felt like it was burning through his armour, searing his flesh.

 “The preparations for the purge are already underway. But as you well know, Empire Day is approaching and I want you here for the celebration. Stay until then, “’ the emperor added, finally letting his hand fall away.

“As you wish,” he replied, exhaling when the touch vanished. Turning back to the window, he stared back up at his tower. He didn’t like the thought of having her so near the Imperial palace, but he dared not separate from her either. If the emperor already knew of her existence, she was safest with him, whether she liked it or not. If he did not, whatever power hid her should hopefully keep her undetected. However, two weeks was a long time, and he knew his wife well. She was trouble when she wanted to be.

Unfortunately, there was no other choice.

The emperor dismissed him with a wave, but Vader knew this was far from over. Heading for the elevator, he took it down past the ground floor, all the way into the prison block.

The guard behind the desk scrambled to his feet at his approach. “Can I help you Lord Vader?”

“Yes, give me the status of a prisoner,” he demanded, giving the details. He had not initially intended to return for the man, but circumstances had changed a great deal.  Time might have prevented him from seeking answers, but there were other means to gather the truth available, and perhaps even too gain some leverage.

The guard tapped quickly at his computer terminal, bringing up details on the man in question. “Scheduled for termination, sir.”

“Belay that order, and have the prisoner brought to my tower, “he replied. He would see through the lies and find the truth this time.

* * *

 

“Are you ready my lady?” Captain Alden asked. He was standing in her quarters, holding a thick blue cloak out towards her, a question in his eyes. But he needn’t have worried she would cause any trouble, she was more than ready to leave her temporary prison, whatever awaited her next.

“As ready as I will ever be,” she replied, wrapping it around her shoulders, determinedly heading for the door. But Alden stopped her with a gentle hand to her shoulder.

His expression was dark, and he looked angry as he dug two thick metal bracelets out of his uniform. Confused she held her hands limply out to him. Without saying anything, he carefully put one on each wrist, flinching as they clicked in to place. Padme was right, he was angry, but it was not with her.

“What is it?” she asked, inspecting one. It looked inconspicuous enough. Delicate almost like an ornament, and not linked like ordinary hand cuffs.

“If you run, they will stun you,” he said angrily, she was surprised by the vehemence in voice. It was not the first time she had worn stun cuffs. Though it was the first time, it was on order by her once husband. Its weight was a strange contrast to her necklace. One a gift a love, the other, she had no words for. All she did know, was that it felt a lot heavier on her heart, then on her wrists.

“It’s alright Alden,” she said reassuringly, trying her best to ignore the hurt. “It’s common for prisoners to be cuffed after all.”

“Yes, them and slaves,” he said, shaking his head in dismay. The word slave stung, and she looked at her cuffs again. Was that what she was now? Property? She knew Alden knew nothing of Vader’s past, and the hurtful significance of his words, he had not meant to hurt her, she knew that.

“Let’s just go, “she said, pulling her cloak over her wrists, so she wouldn’t have to look at them, although she could still feel the cold metal pressing uncomfortably against her skin. Alden nodded, leading her down corridor after corridor in silence. They met no one on their path this time.

Back in the small hanger bay they boarded a shuttle. Padme looked anxiously around the empty cockpit, half expecting Vader to be there. A small hidden part of her almost wanted him to be. He had not asked to see her again after their last encounter. But his touch still lingered, gentle and confusing.

She almost opened her mouth to ask where he was, but stopped herself rubbing the cuff on her right arm. Why should she care? What she should be focusing on now, was how to get out of there.

“Lord Vader is already on the planet surface, “Alden said, as if reading her mind, or she was simply that obvious? She hoped not.

“He had to take care of something, but will come to you later,” Alden added, as he steered the ship out of the hangar and into space.

Padme didn’t reply, not sure how she felt about that. Instead she stared ahead, as Coruscant appeared, growing bigger at their approach.

It was night when they entered the atmosphere. However, it was never truly dark on Coruscant. The large buildings below gleamed with lights, and from afar it looked the same as it always had.

That was until she spotted the high spires of the Jedi temple, it was barely recognizable anymore. Now it was the Imperial Palace, the final piece in Palpatines victory over the Jedi, and it hurt to see it desecrated like this. Padme knew she would never be able to look at it again, and not think about the massacre that had happened there.

She shut her eyes for a moment, blocking out the view. It still made no sense. How could Anakin have ruthlessly butchered his own, even the young? At that thought, Luke and Leia’s faces came to her, innocent and laughing. Safe. Padme opened her eyes then, feeling bile rise in her throat.

Unable to look at the temple any longer, she turned away. To her surprise they did not land by the temple itself, but skirted around it to a large tower hidden just behind. One, who’s spire almost matched the old temple in height, clawing upwards dark and desolate. Padme had no memories of this building. Off course a great deal had changed since she had last been here. Then the smoke from the temple had barely been put out, the bodies probably still lying within. It had been the end of her life as she had known it, but she had not been ready to admit that then. Or to admit to herself what he had done, what he had become. She just couldn’t. But now, she knew she had to.

Alden landed the shuttle on a ledge high on the spire itself.  Before he let her leave, he made her pull the hood low down over her face.

Outside she took a deep breath. Although she would not call the air fresh, she was glad to be out of space at least.

 “Is it the monthly rain or is the emperor just in a bad mood” she muttered to herself, lifting her head slightly, a few rains drop landing on her skin. She could not help the word emperor coming out sounding like an insult. Although Alden made no comment, she could swear she almost saw him smile. Seizing her opportunity, she spoke.

“Help me escape this place, it’s evident you have no love for the empire, “she pleaded, knowing it was a long shot. 

Alden sighed, steering her inside. “I feel for you, I really do. But if I help you, I forfeit my life. I think you know that. “

She did know, and knew she was unfair to ask. But she had to try. “Then let us both leave. Why be part of this, if you don’t believe in it?” she asked, pointing to the Imperial Palace behind them.  Was the emperor there now, she wondered. Was he proud of all the death and misery he had caused? And for what? Power?

Alden looked over palace, his eyes reflecting the same hard bitterness she knew her own did.  “I can’t leave here,” he said, closing the door behind them. Locking her securely within her new prison.

“You are very loyal. Seems Vader chose well when put his trust in you, “she said, unable to hide her bitterness.

Alden shook his head. “Vader doesn’t do trust, he does leverage,” he added quietly, before turning away, leading her to her new room. It was large and luxurious, furnished with all she could ever need. All of it new additions, if she had to guess. Removing her cloak, she turned to Alden.

“What does he have on you?” she asked cautiously. Part of her was curious, another part did not want to know anymore of Vader’s crimes. Her heart could not take it. But she had looked away from Anakin’s rage too many times, she would not do so again. Even if it hurt.

Alden hesitated, as if he had not intended to answer. But then he did, looking her straight in the eyes. She saw a pain there, she recognized.

“What is the one thing, you would give up your freedom for?” he asked softly, as much to himself as her. And although his eyes were still on her, she could tell his mind was elsewhere.

“Love,” she replied without hesitation. She thought of the twins then. What would she not do to keep them safe? Principles and politics faded to nothing at the thought of anyone harming her children. It was scary to contemplate, what she would be capable of doing, to protect them.  Even from their own father.

Unsuccessfully she tried to drive the image of Anakin from her mind, the constant ache in her heart intensifying. He had claimed to do it all for her, only to turn on her moments later. She could not trust him again. Desperately she tried to harden her heart to the confusing feelings Vader had started to stir within her. There was nothing she could do. She could not help him. She had tried once, and had nearly died for the effort.

Alden looked away, saying no more on the subject, and she decided not to pry. She was not the only one in the galaxy with someone to lose. She just hoped Vader would not be the one to take it from Alden, like he had taken it from her. He had caused enough suffering.

“You are free to move around this floor, but the elevators are of limits. If you leave, the alarm will sound and your cuffs will activate,” Alden told her, handing her a small comlink. “This will summon me, if you need anything.” With a bow, and a reassuring smile he left her there. Alone again, at the very centre of her nightmares.

* * *

 

Padme looked around her room, the silence pressing against her, suffocating her. No living thing lingered within these walls. Unable to sit still she left her room, almost tripping over a small droid as she entered the corridor. It was the only moving thing she had seen so far. Though it was no astromech droid, the sight made her miss Artoo. She gave it a small smile, but it beeped sounded offended, and rolled away. Not friendly then.

She wandered from room to room, each one as empty as the next. This place was big simply for the sake of being big. He had no need for these rooms, there was nothing for him to fill them with. For once in his life he owned something, but all it was, was an empty shell.  Was that what he was? Broken and without substance, or was what remained so dark it could fill the void? In her heart, she knew Anakin could not possibly want this. But Vader, what did he want?

Whatever it was he had left her in the heart of the empire, and she might as well make the most of it. She had not forgotten her mission, and right now she was a close to answers as she had ever been.  If there was any information about what the empire was up too, surely some of it would be here.

A few of the doors were locked, but right now she had no means of opening them.  There was no doubt in her mind that one of these rooms were his quarters. Did he even sleep anymore, she wondered?  In the past, nightmares had haunted him. What was his dreams like now? Now that he was the nightmare, were they finally quiet?

She moved away, the next door down opened and Padme peeked in. Like she had grown to expect it was just another empty room. However, unlike the others, this room was dusty, like no one had entered for a while, not even a cleaning droid. Curiosity peeked she entered.

There was no furniture in the room, just a big solitary chair. It did not look comfortable.  Cold and clinical like everything else in this place, except her room. It was not a place to rest achy feet after a long day’s work.

The window was covered by blinds. To keep the light out perhaps. Or keep the dark in.  Bored she strode over to the window, lifting the blinds.

A scope rested a top the chair. Picking it up she stared out at Coruscant.  Maybe she would be able to spot the senate building from here. Perphaps Bail was there. If she could only ask him about information on the twins. Focusing the scope, she froze. What she saw was another building entirely. In the middle of the window as if framed by it, lay the building she had once called home.

She dropped the scopes, it was just a building it meant nothing surely. Yet she got the feeling she wasn’t the only one that liked torturing herself.

Uncomfortable or not she dropped down into the seat. Had she haunted him like he had haunted her? In her dreams, in her waking hours. Even reflected in Luke’s eyes, or a stubborn tilt to Leia’s chin. He had been there, every step of the way. Haunting her, cursing her. Never letting go. She was a fool to think she could ever outrun him. And now he was even trapping her within his own nightmare. Life like this was not freedom, not for either of them.

Padme felt her skin prickle, the sound of boots hitting the floor rapidly approaching.  She heard his breathing long before she saw him. She didn’t bother to get up, as he entered. Though she still feared him, her emotions were all drained. Muddled and confused.

“I could get you the entire building if you wished it,” he said quietly when he noticed the scope in her hand, but she shook her head.

“You could get me the entire planet, but you can never replace what we lost,” she replied sadly. There was no going home, not for either of them. Feeling defeated she looked over at him.

“Tell me does it make you feel triumphant? Building in the ashes of the dead?”

“I do what I must, “he replied. If she didn’t know who he was, who he had been, she would have though he was not human. Just a cold and calculating machine, and now her imprisoner.

 

Absently she touched one of her cuffs, drawing his gaze.

He strode into the room then, getting to one knee beside the chair he took her hand, she tried to pull away but he would not let her.  

“You have left me with no choice Padme,” he said, rubbing the cuff. “If I remove them you will run, and you are not safe out there.”

“I have always been able to take care of myself,” she snapped, “I have managed years without your protection. I don’t need it now.” Especially if his kind of protection meant being locked up like trophy.

“Not from him” he said quietly.

“So you do believe me then? If stay here I am dead. Palpatine will see to that,” she added softening her tone. If he realized that much, maybe there was still hope.

“Not as long as I am still breathing,” he replied firmly, his respirator hissing as if to emphasize his words. Seated like this he was practically eye level with her, but what did that help when she could not see his face?

She looked down at their hands, the one holding her felt different. It took her a moment to realize why. Urgently she started to peel the glove of, her heart speeding up at the first sight of skin. Vader sat there silently, letting her remove the glove, finger by finger until the hand was exposed. She hesitated then, before she reached out and touched it. His skin was warm, human.

She turned it over looking at the palm, she knew this hand. It had used to tickle her, stroke her hair, hold her close. But how could it be fitted to this thing, it wasn’t right. None if this was. She looked at the mask again, she knew he was staring at her beneath it, but he didn’t speak.

Carefully she rested her hand on top of his, palm to palm. Then she closed her eyes, and let herself do the one thing she never did. Pretend. For just a little while, she would pretend this had never happened. That they were still together, and that the dark had not torn them apart.

She didn’t know how long they sat like that. But the sudden sound of his respirator brought her out of it. What good was pretending? There was no going back. Only then did she realize he must have been holding his breath. Had he been pretending to?

When she looked down again, she noticed the hands were intertwined together, clasped so tightly it almost hurt. But she was the one pinching she realized, holding on to his hand like a life line. His touch on the other hand was gentle, letting her do as she wished. Abruptly she let go, she had promised herself she would not do this. His hand twitched as if to follow, but it didn’t. He let her retreat.

She felt lost. 

Anakin had spoken those words to her once, but she had not listened. Not truly, not until it was far too late, and now they were both lost.

“I want to see your eyes,” she blurted out. Where they blue, or golden like in her nightmares? If she could see them, then she would know just how much of Anakin remained.  

He shook his head. “I can’t, not here. Not now.”

She pushed back her disappointment, she wanted to see him more than she had realized. But she did notice he had not said no.

“Just tell me this honestly. If you could do it all over, would you? “she asked, dreading the answer, but she had to know. He bent his head, talking to the floor.

“No.”

It was what she had needed to hear. Reaching her hand out again, she took his. She was right, she would give up her freedom for love.  For now, at least, she did not want to fight. Although she would never follow him down this path, perhaps there was still enough of Anakin left for him to follow her, if she let him.


	14. Chapter 14

Vader took the steps down into the interrogation chamber, in several long strides. His cape caressing each step as he descended. With a slight tilt of his helmet, he sent the two Stormtroopers guarding the door away. His silent command was obeyed in an instant, and he entered the room.

It was quiet. Its only other occupant, a large dark haired man, lying lifeless on a metal slab in front of him. At Vader’s approach, he opened his blood shot eyes, blinking in confusion. They were glassy and unfocused. Seemingly staring at some point past Vader’s left shoulder, doubtfully even aware of his presence. Undeterred Vader moved closer, turning on the holo projector he had clasped within his gloved hand.

The image that flickered into life, drew Vader’s gaze for a moment. It was Padme, dressed in one of her senatorial gowns, a serious expression on her face. He remembered she had often looked like that when in an official capacity. Vader’s hand twitched around the holo projector, when she suddenly smiled. It was the same kind of smile she had used to give him when they were alone.   In those moments, they had not needed to hide what they felt. Feeling uncomfortable he looked away. He had kept this holo, though he had never looked at it. He had barely even allowed himself to think her name. Now it seemed, he could not manage to stop thinking it. To stop thinking of her.

“Do you know this woman,” he asked, pushing the holo image toward the man’s face. The only response he received, was an incoherent mumble.

Vader scowled. It had been weeks, since he had first captured and interrogated the prisoner. Then the prisoner had been strong. Defiant. Resisting Vader as best he could, though it had been pointless. Now he was a broken shell of a man, and it seemed someone had continued interrogating him in Vader’s absence. One of the inquisitors no doubt, arrogant enough to think they could achieve more than him, the fools. Or perhaps it had been for practice. In the end, it mattered little to him, but now it was turning out to be rather unfortunate. The prisoner was no good to him broken.

“Answer, “Vader commanded, moving the holo image closer. With his other hand, he tilted the metal slab up into a vertical position, so he could look the man in the eyes. There was a glimpse of sanity still lurking within them. However, Vader knew, if he pushed to hard his mind might fracture completely, and he had long since learned the value of patience.

Blinking again, the prisoner finally looked at Padme’s image. She was still smiling. Back then, her dark eyes had been alight with joy. Not like they were now, constantly weary and uncertain. Sad.

Vader ripped his eyes away. The prisoner had still made no reply. So, he reached out with the force, carefully penetrating the weak defences of the mans addled mind. It was mostly incoherent nonsense. At the forefront, an image of a woman, and a little girl kept reappearing. Before Vader had the chance to dig any deeper, he sensed the man’s love for them, unconditional, unending. Bright. It caused him to pull back, feeling momentarily blinded by its intensity. Then he scoffed at his own weakness. However, before he had a chance to try again, the man finally spoke.

“Neve?” he asked in a hoarse voice, at the same time as he tried to lift his hand towards the image. But they were firmly bound. Not that it would have mattered, Vader thought. The man was to weak, fading with every word he spoke. Vader leaned back on his heels, perhaps the man’s broken mind could be of use to him after all.

“Neve? “the prisoner called again. Now starting to sound desperate, he swung his head around. Calming down only when he spotted Padme’s smiling face. “There you are,” he said, nervously licking his cracked lip. “Have you seen Mina? I can’t find her. I can’t find them.”

Vader remained quiet, listening intently to the man’s ravings. So, it was as he had thought, Padme had indeed lied to him. She had not only known where Obi Wan was, she had been there with his old master. Hiding from him, her own husband. Vader clenched his fist, gnawing on his teeth. What else had his she lied to him about? He clicked off the holo, putting it away, not wanting to see her deceitful face any longer.

“Does Neve have a child?” he asked carefully. He had not allowed himself to think anymore of the child either. However, he knew better than to trust her words. He trusted no one.

“A child,” the man replied, sounding uncertain. Vader almost went over to shake it out of him, but refrained. With a weak mumble from the man, his patience was rewarded. “A boy,”

 _A boy._ It whispered in awe. _A boy._

Vader exhaled, the sound of his respirator sounding to loud in the quiet room. He squeezed his eyes shut, so he could think over the noise. But it was pointless. He felt breathless, as a strange pressure in his chest, he had not even known was there, suddenly let go. He had a son. A living son. His hand twitched involuntarily. He vaguely remembered the feeling of a firm kick pulsing against his palm, as it had gently cradled Padme’s stomach. His eyes flew open, remembering another grip. Tight, unforgiving. Hateful.

The prisoner’s eyes had gone wild, and he was straining against his restraints. “A daughter, “he gasped, before he looked up at Vader’s mask. His eyes had regained some of their focus, and he seemed to finally notice Vader. 

“Where is my daughter,” he asked. His voice once again rang clear and strong.

“I don’t know,” Vader replied honestly, surprising himself. He was the one staring into nothing now, picturing a little boy. He must be three years old. No, almost four by now. When was he even born? Where?

“Good, “the prisoner replied smiling, before his eyes glazed over again. “Good.”

“What is his name, “Vader asked softly. The boy’s power was of no use to him yet off course. He was to young, even if he was powerful. And surely he was powerful. It was his son after all. But with time and proper training, together they would be invincible. Then all of it would be his.

“Who?” the prisoner asked, licking his lips. He was still raving. Absently Vader could hear him call desperately for his wife and daughter.

Normally having to repeat himself would have angered Vader, but now he simply felt dazed. “Neve’s son. What is his name?” he asked again. Bending his mask close the prisoners face, so he would not miss a single word.

“Luke,” the prisoner muttered, in between the mumble.

 _Luke._  

Vader repeated it out loud to himself. “Luke.”

Beneath his shock, he felt his anger stir again. How many lies had she told him? He needed to speak to her about it, But first he had to deal with the prisoner. The man’s breathing was ragged now,  and although his eyes were still wide open, they looked empty, his moment of clarity long gone.

Vader took a step back, straightening to his full height. He had briefly entertained the thought of letting the man live. If he was a friend of Padme, keeping him might make her more amendable. However, no one could ever hear the words that the prisoner had just uttered. Not even if the man before him did not know Padme’s real identity. Unclipping his lightsaber from his belt, he lit it.

“I am sorry my love,” the prisoner whispered, his head sagging forward, he closed his eyes. Resting his chin atop his broad chest. “I am sorry.”

Vader stopped for a moment, as a thought just occurred to him. He tightened his grip on the lightsaber. ” Where you lovers. You and Neve?” he asked icily. The man did not reply, and this time Vader ripped hard into the man’s mind. No longer caring if he did any damage.

The prisoner gasped at the intrusion. But Vader saw only the other woman again, and felt himself relax. Pulling back, he quickly ended the man’s life, with one single stroke through the heart. There was nothing more he would be able to tell him now, and Vader would make sure Padme would never know.

The two stormtroopers returned when he left, moving to dispose of the body. Vader turned to stare at them, as one busily started to unbuckle the dead man from the metal slab. They were his men, ready to respond to his every command. Yet he could not trust them. He could trust no one. Not with her. Or with his son.

_Luke._

The voice sounded elated, almost joyful. Vader walked on, unable to stop its whispers. From here, the entry to the turbolift was located inside the hangar. But unlike the upper floors of the tower, the lower floors were crowded with people. Many were busy doing repairs to the various fighters he had stored there.  He paid them no heed, as he strode for the lift.

He had made it all the way there, before he realized he had not asked a single question about Obi Wan.  He cursed his own distracted mind, it had been a foolish mistake. Agitated he paced inside the small lift. When it finally reached its destination. He was half way out the door, before it had even opened all the way.

Letting his long legs carry him to her door, he did not hesitate. Without bothering to knock, he entered her quarters. However, when he saw her, the restless energy that had brought him there, transformed into something else. Something forgotten.

Padme was standing by the bed, her wet hair draped across one naked shoulder, wrapped in only a towel. She looked beautiful.  Though also small and vulnerable. So easily crushed, if he willed it. His anger faded momentarily, and he almost went to her. He had even taken half a step towards her, before he remembered himself and stopped.

He heard her silent gasp when she spotted him. Saw her quickly lifting her hands up in front of her chest, as if to protect herself. Because her arms were bare, the cuffs stood out against her bare skin like an ugly scar. Like a brand. A flicker of something that felt like guilt hit him. He truly did not wish they were necessary. But she had proven she could not be trusted.

Looking uncertain at his abrupt arrival, she gazed over at him, where he was still lingering in the doorway, one foot half way in, the other still lingering on the threshold. Part of him wished she would come to him willingly. Touch him like she had only last night. The other part still trembled with fury. She was a liar.

_No!_

Vader shook his head, taking a deep breath. No. Not like this, never again. Determined he pushed the rage back. “You lied to me,” he said coolly, folding his arms across his chest.

She stiffened and he could see her expression close down, the politicians mask falling in place. Though knowing her as well as he did, he could still see her mind work. Probably going through which lie he was referring to. For there was more than one. He was sure of it.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she replied a little too quickly. Her stony expression gave little away, but he could see the slight tremble of her hands. She still held them aloft, as if using them as a shield, between her half naked body and him. What was she afraid of exactly?

“But I think you do, “he replied, stepping further into the room. He would not be distracted by her. Yet, every time he looked at her, the memories came. Memories of running his hand across her skin, tickling her just to hear her laugh. Memories of her touch.  Her hand clasping his desperately. Her fear, as he squeezed her windpipe tight. He sucked in a breath, this time he recognized the feeling for what it was, guilt. “Where is my son?”

Padme froze, and her brave mask dissolved before him. Vader could see her fear then, her desolation. Instinct once again urged him forward, wanting to offer her comfort. He could not remember the last time he had wanted to protect anyone.

“How did you know?” she asked, not bothering to lie this time.

“It does not matter,” he replied stiffly, “Tell me, is he with Obi Wan?” That thought infuriated him more than anything. “With the man that did this to me- “Angrily he pointed at himself. His suit had never felt as much like a prison, as it did now. Obi Wan was still keeping them apart, even now.

Padme glared at him, “You did this to yourself,” she snapped.

He bent his head. Off course she would side with _him._ He should have known that much. “You made me believe I killed our son,” he snapped back, denying to himself that her words stung.

“I never said that,” she replied quietly. Swallowing she let her hands drop, looking down at her bare feet.  When she lifted her head again, her eyes were fierce. Protective. ““You have done your best to destroy everything I love, including yourself. I will not allow you to destroy our child. That’s why I lied.”

_I know._

And her. He had almost destroyed her. He hesitated, staring down at her face. She did not look vulnerable anymore. In fact, she looked ready to do battle, knowing against him she could not win. He would not have been surprised if she had drawn a weapon on him, if she had one available.

“Is Obi Wan training him? Turning him into be an obedient little Jedi?” he hissed, clenching his fist. When Padme noticed, she flinched. He forced himself to relax, he did not need to be able to feel her emotions through the force, to tell she was afraid. She did not have to be, he was not that foolish boy any longer. He would not hurt her. Not again. Never again.

She shook her head, staring directly up at him. Fear or not, she still stood her ground. She always had. “Luke will be what he wants to be,” she said, straightening her back. “He will not have others decided his fate, before he is old enough to make the decision himself. He will not be like us; thrown into responsibilities we were far too young to carry.”

“I am his father, “he replied firmly. “And I demand you tell me where he is.  His fate is very much my concern.” 

To his surprise Padme walked over to him, stopping just outside his reach. Her hair had started to dry. A dark lock was curling upwards, clinging stubbornly to her exposed throat. Unable to stop himself, he brushed it off, and this time she did not flinch.

Instead her gaze softened, and she looked at him in a way he remembered. It was the way he had longed for, for so very long. Ever since he had reached for her through the force, and had only been met with emptiness.

“But don’t you see? It’s not about you, it’s about him. About what he needs,” she said gently. “And I know some part of you, do not want this life for him. If you want to be his father, act like one. Love him for his sake, not your own.”

Love him. He chewed on the words.” I will protect him. I will train him to use his power,” he replied, intertwining the lock around a gloved finger, studying the shiny strands.

“That’s not the same thing and you know it,” she replied sounding disappointed.  “When you remember the difference, I will tell you how to find him myself. Until then, he will remain safe.”

“If you have your way, you will keep him from me,” he said, dropping her hair, to glare at her beneath his mask. They could all be together, like they should be. Why did she insist in keeping them apart?

“If I had my way you would have been there all along, “she replied sadly, before gazing into the distance.

“When he smiled for the first time. When he took his first step. Just to fall over a moment later,” she laughed softly then, and as she started to speak of their son. Her love shown so bright in her eyes, it almost touched him. He listened intently, mesmerized by her voice. But then she abruptly stopped, and he could see the moment she remembered where she was. He blinked, it felt like the light in the room suddenly went dark.

When she spoke again, any trace of the joy he had just glimpsed was long gone. “I asked you to come with us, remember?”

_I should have._

He did remember, he would always remember. He hesitated again, whenever she got to close, his mind did not function properly. The whispers moving to close to the surface.

“I will find my son. With or without your help,” he told her. If it had been anyone else, he would have pried the information out of them with the force, or other methods. Threats were secondary to his nature now. Most of the time he didn’t even have to utter them, his presence alone was enough to make people fall in line. But she was not any body, she was his wife.

Her face fell, and at the disturbing though of Padme in pain, he turned to leave. Not wanting to be near her, in his current state.

“Anakin please,” she cried, and he halted in his tracks. Though he didn’t turn to face her, until he felt her small hand tug at his elbow. Relenting he turned. He didn’t even bother to correct her. If it made her happy, he supposed she could call him _that._

Her eyes were wide, and he could see her bravely fighting back tears. He wished she would stop doing that, and although it was trembling, the hand holding him felt surprisingly strong. Her nails making deep groves into the leather. 

“Please,” she pleaded again. He almost felt her then, through her touch. But it was not the soothing feeling he remembered from the past. This was sheer terror. It was wrong, all wrong. This was not how it was supposed to be.

When he didn’t answer, she let go. Looking utterly defeated. The feeling of her presence, however weak it had been, vanished. He wanted it back. Back as it had been all those years ago, when his presence had brought her joy not fear. He did not wish her pain. Never again. So, he found himself nodding. For now, at least, she would have her reprieve.  At least until he figured out what to do next. He could not risk the emperor finding his son.

Padme visibly relaxed, letting out a breath, and she offered him the tiniest indication of a smile. But they both knew; this was far from over. Though when he left, he had the strange feeling she might just have won after all.


	15. Chapter 15

Holding on to the side of the ship, Obi Wan pushed himself upright.  The cracking sound from his back, a telltale sign, he was not as young as he had used to be.  Not that he had been any better at this sort of thing at a younger age either, he thought ruefully, as he stared at the exposed wiring in front of him. The ship was very old, but he had hoped she would have taken them a bit further before breaking down. But it seemed they were finally out of luck, if he had actually believed in luck that was.

It had been hours since they landed, and it still smelt burnt. Even he, with his limited knowledge of such things, could tell it was an absolute mess. But for now, he had done what he could. Needing a break, he dropped the wrench he was holding down on to the grass.

Feeling very old suddenly, he sank down on to a crate resting his back against the ship’s hull, letting the sun warm his face. Lifting his head, he stared over at the riverbank, and the only thing that now remained of Anakin. His young children. They were playing by the water, under the close watch of Mina and Threepio. He could hear their laughter from here. So young, and ignorant to the predicament they found themselves in.  For a moment, he envied them their innocence.

The sun streaked blond hair of Anakin’s son, was such a constant reminder of his father, it brought an ache to his chest.  Sometimes, just for the tiniest fragment of a second, when Luke tilted his head at a certain angle, or just simply smiled, Obi Wan would mistake him for his father, even though Luke was much younger than Anakin had been when they first met.

Obi Wan knew the optical illusion was little more than a manifestation of his longing. The unnamed desire for a second chance. The chance to do it right this time. Or at least leave Anakin in the care of someone that could. But he knew it could never be.

He closed his eyes, picturing his friends face. But every time he did so now, all he saw was Anakin’s face contorted in pain. The hatred in his yellow eyes so intense, that even now, Obi Wan could not believe it was the same young innocent boy he had once known. The one he had practically raised.

And faced with task of finishing it, what had he done? He had walked away, not even having the courage to end Anakin’s suffering. He had failed then. His inability to act, hanging a shadow over the twins, he feared he could not protect them from. And now with Padme gone, their home exposed, he felt at a loss of what to do next.

He reassured himself that for now at least, they were safe. This peaceful haven they had found by accident, held no trace of the dark side or its servants. So, he stretched out with the force, feeling the life force of the creatures all around him. The silent rushing of the water as it flowed deep down in to earth. The warm presence of the twins. The shadow of Mina and her daughter’s bottomless grief. The loss of a loved one, was a pain that never truly went away. He knew that all too well.

Extending his senses, he reached further away just for a moment, trying not to dwell on the emptiness in the force where the other jedi should have been. Nor where Anakin had used to be, in that place lay only darkness. He never went anywhere near it.  Instead he let go, releasing some of his pain into the force.

It offered him little comfort. So, he dug deeper, conjuring another image of Anakin in his mind. One from a more peaceful time. In this one, Anakin was laughing at something, gesticulate both hands wildly in the air. One hand was holding a wrench, and a dark stain of grease was staining his forehead.

Obi Wan opened his eyes, turning to look at the mess of wires and metal sticking out of the ship like a sore thumb. Anakin would have known what to do. He would have taken one look at Obi Wan’s feeble attempts at repairs, taken the wrench, and with a smile, fixed the thing in a moment. Probably even, with his eyes closed.

Now more than ever, Obi Wan could have needed his help. But he knew it would never come. Any hope of that, had ended on the volcanic shores of Mustafar. Or in truth, long before that. He only wished he knew when. When had Anakin truly been lost to him? Could he have stopped it? Had he tried harder, would Anakin have been with them now? Would he have been playing by the water with Leia, or been helping Luke finally catch a fish?  Obi Wan would never know.

Reaching around he pulled at a wire, it came loose in his hand. Anakin’s skill at repairs had brought his own to shame. But to Obi Wan it had not mattered. There had been no need, he had always had Anakin, and he always thought that he would. Now his friend was worse than dead, he was destroyed, and partially by his own hand. He let the broken wire fall to the ground, there was no fixing that.

Leia screeched in laughter, bringing his attention back to the now. He shook his head at himself in dismay. He had always told Anakin to keep his mind in the present. And here he was, dwelling on the past, on what could not be changed. When instead he should focus on what could. This was not the jedi way. But then again, the jedi were no more.

“Not my gold plating Mistress Leia,” Threepio lamented, as she started splashing water at him giggling to herself as she did so. Luke on the other hand was inspecting his fishing rod. As if to figure out why it wasn’t working properly. Envious Luke was looking over at Daedre’s bounty. A row of perfect pink fish, they had laid out on a rock. With Obi Wans help she was the only one who had actually caught anything. But that was mostly because she was quiet. To quiet. Not like a child of age five should be. She stared over a him then, seeming so much older than her years.   A fate he knew, she shared with more than one child in the galaxy.

Staring into her sad eyes, he wondered not for the first time, what he would do if Padme did not return. Would he find himself foster parent for not just one but two children? Perhaps even three? For that he was wholly inadequate. He had no real notion of family, only what he had shared with Qui-Gon, and Anakin, even with Ahsoka. And look at how that had all turned out. As a jedi he had been taught to let go of his attachments, but it seemed even in that he had failed.  

“What do you think of this mess, master?” he asked the air. It had been years since Qui-Gon’s death, but even at his age, there were times he longed for his old master’s words. His wisdom, and patience. But there was no reply, only the sound of the flowing river, and the giggle of a child. In that sound, he found hope, his only hope.  The only piece of Anakin left, that he could still save.

Leia had walked further into the shallow water, before he could rush to his feet to pull her out, he saw Mina following. She waded into the water, having removed her shoes in the warm summer heat. He relaxed, instead watching Leia’s antics. Her joy was almost enough to drown out the pain, but it also brought with it more worry. He loved them more than he should. It was not the jedi way. But he loved them, like he had loved Anakin, and always would. Even now.

Mina herded Leia onto the shore, driving the children closer to the ship so they could play on the grass. Then she approached him.

He ran a hand across his brow, wiping away the sweat. He knew she had questions, which so far, he had managed to avoid to answer.  

She sat down on the ground in front of him, crossing her legs in front of her, her hair fiery in the sunlight. She gave him a small smile, from a face that would have been pleasant to look at. If not for the sunken eyes and the lost expression. Not that he looked any better. He was sure grief must have etched itself permanently on to his features by now.

“How goes the repairs? “she asked, wrinkling her nose as she spotted the mess of wiring behind him.

He shrugged, not wanting to cause her any more alarm, then being run from her home already had done. “I think she will fly. Though we need to reach a populated area to acquire some spare parts.”

Mina stared at him, her blue eyes perceptive, more so than he had given her credit for. “When are, you going to tell me, what is really going on?” she asked suddenly.

Obi Wan looked away from her face over at the twins, to make sure they were not listening. But they were busy, trying to draw Daedre into their play.

“This is not the time or the place,” he replied, knowing she deserved some part of the truth, but perhaps not all of it. Definitely not.

She nodded, reaching her hand out, she picked up the wrench before getting to her feet.

“It’s an old ship, “she mused, running her hand across the hull. “But strong. Not as good as the one we traded for it however.”

Obi Wan nodded. “It was necessary in case someone traced our escape. A new ship makes us harder to follow,” he replied. They had made of the planet just in time. He knew it had only been a matter of time, before the ruse was up. He could only hope Vader had not sensed any remnant of Padme’s presence. Her strange shield was strong, but the bond she had shared with Anakin had been strong too. Stronger than he had realized. But in the end, not even that had been enough to pull Anakin back from the abyss. If she hadn’t been able to save Anakin, he knew no one could.

 “Are you thinking of Vader?” Mina asked carefully, though she did not turn around. Instead she reached forward untangling some of the wires. Her hands deft and skillful.

“You have done this before?” he asked, avoiding her question. If she noticed, she made no comment.

“My uncle was a mechanic, he showed me a few tricks. Though I am no expert,” she replied. “So where exactly are we going?”

Obi Wan ran a hand through his beard, thinking.

“I will send a secure message to some friends, and then we lay low for a while.” Exactly where he was not sure, everything had changed now. Vader may very well know the truth by now.  If the unsettling feeling he had in his stomach was anything to go by. But even if Padme did get caught, he knew she would never willingly betray her children. But he also knew the dark side had no mercy. She would not be given a choice.

Mina turned back to face him. “Look, I never asked any questions when you two showed up, with the twins in tow. You were not the first refugees looking for a place to hide from the empire, and I figured if Neve wanted to tell me more, in time she would. It was none of my business. But now it’s different. My husband’s activities might have brought the empire to my door, but there is more going on isn’t there?” she asked.

He hesitated, telling her about Vader and Padme was not an option, but she deserved something. “The twins are gifted, “he said carefully, gauging her reaction.

“I see,” she replied, as realization dawned on her face. The empire might have tried to erase the jedi order, but he knew many remembered, but wisely kept quiet.

“I will take you and Daedre somewhere safe, I doubt the empire would bother following you. It’s us they want, “he offered, indicating the twins.

“No, “she replied instantly. Staring at her daughter, she lowered her voice. “Those imperial bastards killed my husband, I am not going anywhere. Besides you need me. The twins need me.”

“No wonder Neve likes you, “he replied with a small smile. He felt a strange sense of relief at her words. He realized he did not wish to be alone.  “You two are very much alike.”

She smiled back, thought it did not quite reach her eyes. But still it was strange how a smile could change a person. Lift the sadness a bit, even just for a moment.  “I miss her you know. I miss them both. “

“So, do I, “he replied, trying not to think of Anakin.

He had no chance to say anymore before Leia and Luke appeared, dragging Daedre behind them. “Uncle Ben,” they said in tandem. ” When is, mummy coming? Will she be home for our birthday?”

“She had to go on an important mission. She will find us when she can,” he said, hoping it was the truth.

“Like Kieran?”  Luke asked, and Obi Wan could see Mina flinch at the sound of her husband’s name, her grief returning full force.

“But he never came home,” Leia said, looking stricken as her lower lip started trembling. He reached forward and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Not knowing what to say, he lied.

“It will be all right “he said. The twins had been doing well, but he knew they missed their mother. And nothing could replace a parent. Certainly, not him.

“Oh,” Luke said crestfallen, but it quickly disappeared and he smiled. “She will come home soon. I know she will. “

Leia looked less convinced. But said no more.

“I want a fish,” Luke added, brandishing the fishing rod in front of him like a weapon. His worry all but forgotten. Obi Wan looked over at Mina.

“You go. I’ve got this,” she said, indicating the ship.

Grateful he got to his feet, and joined the children by the water. He could not give them their father back, but he could give them this. So, for now he would be uncle Ben, not Obi Wan Kenobi, the once jedi master. For all he knew, besides Yoda the only one left standing. He the one who had trained the padawan that would help kill them all. If there was a reason for his survival, he knew he was looking at it. He ruffled Luke’s hair and waded into the water, letting the water and the children’s joy carry his worries away, at least for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update on the twins:)  
> I just finished reading the Ahsoka novel. It broke my heart when she reached out with the force, feeling the emptiness the jedi left behind. I could not help but imagining Obi Wan doing the same thing. Neither knowing the other still lives.


	16. Chapter 16

Padme stirred, the hard ground beneath her digging uncomfortably into her back. Opening her eyes, she slowly staggered to her feet. Her old ship, the Nubian, was still standing on the platform where she had left it. But there were no signs of either Threepio or Artoo. She was alone, just where she had fallen. Anakin was gone. His power more important to him now, then she was. Then they were.

Instinctively she put a hand to her stomach, but it was flat now, empty. For a moment, she panicked, her hands digging desperately into the fabric, wanting to shred it apart with her bare hands, so she could feel her babies.  But then she remembered, and she let go of the rumpled tunic. Her children were on their own now, she could not protect them anymore. Not from this place. Nor from their father.

Confused she looked around, only now realising the fires of Mustafar had long since burned out. The fissures that had once spit out fire, had all gone cold. The planet around her, was nothing more now than a dead rock.

Turning she walked away from the ship, aimlessly wandering the desolate volcanic landscape. The lack of heat chilled her to her very bones. Rubbing her arms, she found herself standing on a bank of black sand, staring across a sea of lava.  Its flows had all dried up, leaving behind only dark cracked slabs of rock. She could not honestly tell, if she preferred the flames, or the darkness their absence left behind.

From somewhere in the distance a loud scream pierced through the air, so agonized it made her want to cry. But her tears could not alleviate anyone’s pain, not even her own. There was nothing she could do. So, she remained on the bank, listening intently. She knew who’s pain she had felt, who’s voice had cried out into the darkness. More than anything she wished she could help him, to save him from himself. But the fire that had burned them both, was as dead as this place, and now only the ashes remained.

As she stood there numb, another heart wrenching scream followed the first. This one came to her from across the lake of volcanic rock.  She felt herself freeze as solid as the lava.  It had not been Anakin this time, but she would know that voice anywhere. It starting hulking, the desperate sobs calling out to her.

“Luke,” she screamed, running down the remainder of the bank, dark ashes swelling up around as she followed her son’s frantic cries. Not hesitating she ran onto the solidified lava.

She could see him now, hanging onto the ledge on the steep bank opposite her. Beneath his feet, the frozen lava lake had cracked open, exposing some last dormant embers lingering beneath its hard shell.  His small body was trembling, as he clung on for dear life. She wanted to go to him, but suddenly found she was barely able to move.  No matter how hard she tried, or how hard she pushed.

Appearing from atop of the bank, just above Luke’s head, she could see Vader approaching. He was moving slowly, but deliberately towards Luke, and she knew she would not get there in time. She was too late, she was always too late.

The black ashes still floating around her, started to fill her mouth, making it hard to breathe. “No,” she shouted, forcing her legs to move, coughing as she went. There were no signs of Leia anywhere, but Luke was close. So, close, if she could only move fast enough.

Unfortunately, Vader was faster even at his leisurely pace. Now he was only a few steps away. Luke was still crying, and she could see him start to lose his grip. Just as he was about to fall into the crack below, Vader lunched forward and caught him in a firm grip.

Hurrying she skirted around the exposed embers, half expecting the ground she was standing on to open as well, and swallow her whole. To take her, before she could save her child. But it didn’t, and she climbed onto the bank.

Vader was staring down at her from above. His cape flickering in an absent wind, Luke resting on his hip. His small fists clinging hard on to Vader’s cloak, his head buried in Vader’s neck.

“Please no,” she said, lifting a hand pleadingly towards him. But holding on to Luke, Vader stepped back, further out of her reach. The ashes in her mouth were like glass, cutting her mouth as she spoke. But she didn’t care. “No,” she shouted again, but he took another step away from her.

“Mine,” he replied simply. With the hand that was not holding Luke, he pulled of his helmet, exposing his face, and the dark blond locks of his hair. They were a few shades darker than his son, but the resemblance was undeniable. He looked just like she remembered him, except his eyes were a sickly yellow, rimmed with red. “Mine,” he said again in his own voice, while looking possessively over at Luke.

By now Luke had stopped sobbing. Hands still tangled in Vader’s cloak, he lifted his head to look down at her, with eyes as yellow as his father’s. His expression stone cold, looking nothing like her innocent little boy anymore.

Holding back a scream, she scrambled further up the bank towards them, trying to climb on to the ledge. But the sand was slippery, and she fell to her knees. At her evident distress, Vader simply smiled, and turned from her. Taking her child, he walked away, not even bothering to look back.

Slowly she felt herself slip toward the large fissure. It had opened wide, expanding as she watched, leaving her no escape. She looked back up the bank, desperately searching for Luke. In her selfish arrogance, she had failed at the only thing she had left, protecting her children. But even now, she refused to give up, so she grabbed onto the ledge trying to push herself up, her arms trembling from the effort. She caught a last glance of them as they walked away into the dark landscape, before she slipped, hanging on only by her fingertips. She didn’t bother to look down, but she knew she could not hold on forever, eventually she would fall.

Feeling so very tired she closed her eyes, her only hope was that Leia was still safe, and that he would not take her as well.

“Have faith my love,” a voice said softly, and she opened her eyes. Above her on the ledge, Anakin was sitting on his knees in the sand, holding a hand out towards her. At first, she thought Vader was back. But his blue eyes were gentle, and he was wearing his familiar jedi robes. Before she could stop it, a sob escaped her lips.

“I had faith,” she said bitterly, biting back her tears, gripping the glassy sand tightly between her fingers. “I had faith in us, in you. Now look at us,” she said looking in the direction Vader had vanished in, the dark sand slipping through her fingers. A sad expression crossed Anakin’s beautiful face, as his gaze followed her’s.

He turned back to look at her. “Don’t you give up now,” he said, offering her his hand again.  

Wearily she stared at it, at him. “I can’t do this alone,” she said hoarsely, feeling her hands start to slip, the warmth from below licking greedily at her feet. It would be so easy to just let it swallow her.

“You are not alone,” he said. At his words, she used the remainder of her strength, to stretch her shaking hand out to take his. Carefully he grabbed her, pulling her onto the ledge and safety.

His grip felt so real, but she knew it wasn’t. None of this was. Sitting next to him, she stared down at her dirty hands, they were bloody and scraped from her struggle. But minor pain like that, could not hurt her anymore. It was nothing compared to the rest.

Anakin moved closer. With one hand, he gently tilted her head up to make her look at him. She had not wanted to, at the same time as she wanted nothing more. But the pain of his loss, still burnt as brightly as the embers below. Perhaps hidden beneath the surface, but still there all the same.

Anakin smiled sadly, looking intently into her eyes “Don’t cry,” he said. His fingers gracing her cheek softly, before he dropped his hand, letting her go. “In them, I am with you always,” he said, as he opened his cloak. Sitting snugly on his lap was Leia, smiling as she tugged the cloak around herself again.

Anakin smiled back at her. The way he looked at their daughter, the very opposite of how Vader had looked at Luke.  

Padme blinked away her tears, as the both of them, started to faded away before her eyes. “No,” she cried, reaching forward to touch them. To grab of hold of them, and never let go again. But her hands passed right through, as if they were nothing but air.

Anakin looked at her once more, before they vanished. “I love you,” he said softly, and then he was gone, like he had never been. Disappearing back into the part of her heart she had conjured him from.

“I love you too, “she whispered. Left all alone again, she closed her eyes.  “Always.”

When she dared opening them again, she was safely in her bed, her sheets tangled all around her.  Sitting up, she put her head in her hands and sobbed. Her whole body shaking, but she was unable to stop it. This was what they had warned her about, Obi Wan and Bail, and now it was too late. Vader knew now, there was no going back.

When the tears finally stopped, she removed her covers, grabbing the warm robe by her bed. Not bothering to close it, she walked into the corridor in a daze. Earlier that day she had made Alden point out to her, which door was Vader’s.

When she got there, she hesitated only briefly before she knocked. She didn’t know what she was going to say, or why she was there. All she knew was that she needed to see him, to know he was not out looking for Luke. Though why it mattered she wasn’t sure, she knew it was only a matter of time, before he did.  What purpose did a delay serve, if the result would always be the same?

When no one answered, she knocked again, harder this time.

Further down the corridor another door opened, and Alden stepped out, quickly putting his cap on. “He is not there my lady,” he said.

She let her hands fall to her side. “Where is he?” she asked, desperately searching Alden’s face for some clue. But found nothing. She could not ask him what she really wanted to know. Had Vader had gone after Luke. Did he at this moment have her child? Both their children?  But surely Obi Wan would keep them safe, he had to.

“Lord Vader had an engagement to attend to. That’s why I am here. In case you need anything. “he replied. Uncertain he looked at her tearstained face. She knew she was a mess, but it didn’t matter.  “Are you all right?” he asked, looking concerned.

“No,” she replied honestly, staring up at Vader’s closed door again. Part of her was glad he had not been there, as she was starting to regain her self-control. The other was still terrified.  What had she been thinking running here like this? She had promised herself she would keep her emotions in check. Because she knew in her heart, there was an inferno raging beneath Vader’s mask, her throwing more wood on the flame would not help. She had to remain calm.

“Come,” Alden said gently, “It’s the middle of the night, you should get some rest.” Nodding she let him lead her to her door. Although she doubted she would be able to sleep. The vividness of her dreams tended to be more exhausting than the lack of sleep was.

Alden stopped just outside her room. “Lord Vader will be back in a few hours,” he said, and she nearly let out a sob in relief. Alden gave her a rather strange look when she smiled at him, his eyebrows lifting almost to the brim of his cap.  But to her it meant Vader was still on the planet. It would take much longer to find Luke, if he even could. There was still time. But for what she did not know.

“But I do recommend,” Alden continued, rubbing his temples, he yawned. “You do not knock at his door like that. It’s probably not wise.”

“If I can help it,” she replied evasively. She knew Alden was only looking out for her, but she would make no promises. He eyed her carefully, clearly not believing a word.

Shaking his head slightly, he offered her a small bow. “Goodnight my lady. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thank you,” she replied. Wishing him goodnight she went back inside her room. However, she did not return to her bed. There was no doubt in her mind she would dream again, and she didn’t think she could bear it. Curling up in a chair instead, she decided to wait for Vader’s return.  She knew Anakin had only been a dream, but he was right, she couldn’t give up. Not now. Their children depended on her.


	17. Chapter 17

Hands folded across his chest, Vader leaned his back against the wall. From his spot in the corner, he could easily keep an eye on everyone inside the crowded room. Though they mostly avoided him if they could. It was an arrangement that suited him just fine. He loathed the lot of them.

He let his gaze wander across the crowd, it consisted mostly of Moff’s and politicians. Many of whom, were busy trying to garner favours from the emperor. For the moment, the emperor seemed to be taking amusement at this display, even indulging some of the more ambitious of the politicians.

Vader narrowed his eyes, as he studied his masters deceptively frail form. It was he, that had demanded his presence here tonight. Though Vader was sure it was some form of punishment, Palpatine knew how much he hated gatherings like this.

But tonight, it didn’t bother him too much, the excuse to leave his tower had been welcome one. Although he could think of a lot better things to do, then spend his time with these pretentious fools.

He pushed himself upright.  The need to get away had been strong. To get away from _her_. Her and her lies. Before he did something he would regret. He hissed under his breath. What he should do, was to head back, and demand she tell him where his son was. He should _make_ her tell him.  Shake all the lies from her, rattle her until there were none left. But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t.

Vader had not even finished the thought, before he noticed the emperor had turned his scrutiny in his direction, his yellow eyes calculating. Vader bent his head a fraction in acknowledgment, and the emperor smiled. It was a cold dead thing, that smile. The smile of a liar.   The emperor held his gaze a moment longer, before he turned his attention back to the crowd in front of him. They were all eager for his attention. Vader could happily do without it, but he would play his masters games. For now.

A gentle breeze made his cape flicker. He turned around. Behind him, a young female servant had opened the door to the large balcony outside. When she caught him looking at her, she went pale, her large dark eyes widening with horror. Padme had looked at him just like that. More than once. Because that was what he was, horrific. There was no reason to pretend otherwise.

Needing solitude, he strode past the girl, and out on the balcony. There the darkness of the evening welcomed him as an old friend, letting him meld into its shadows. He liked the dark. Others feared it. He scoffed, the dark itself could not really hurt anyone.  But he could. He wanted to. He wanted to hurt someone. Hurt someone, so he didn’t hurt _her_.

He leaned his hands on the railing. Thoughts of her had used to bring him pain, through that hatred, from that strength. And now? Now they made him weak. _She_ made him weak. _Him._ He could not allow that. Would not allow that. So, with a breath, he forced her out. Pushed out her pleading eyes, her tempting words, her hopeful expression. The man she was looking for, was not who he was anymore. He couldn’t be. That man had been a simpering fool. An ignorant child. He hit the railing with his fist. Why couldn’t she see that?

Someone coughed, Vader snapped his head in the direction of the sound. A man, evidently oblivious to his presence, had followed him out on the balcony. Vader was about to make himself known, and chase the idiot away. But then a beam of light illuminated the man’s face, and he stopped his forward motion. Though they had never really spoken, Vader would have recognized the man anywhere.

Because Moff Alden looked very much like an older version of his son, albeit with a significant bulge around his middle. And his hair was more silver now, than blond. Vader could not help but wonder if Luke looked anything like him. He almost shook his head, at that unwanted thought. That was completely irrelevant. To anything.

Pulling slightly back into the shadows, he remained completely still, not making himself known, until Alden was standing just in front of him. Only then did he let out a breath. Perhaps this evening wouldn’t be all a waste after all.

The older man startled at the sudden sound of his respirator. “Lord Vader,” he said with a slight bow, when he had collected himself. “What a pleasure, I didn’t see you there. “

Vader titled his head towards him. “You have something I want,” he said briskly. He had no time for pleasantries. For fake words. Alden should save that for the politicians.

“I can’t think what that could possibly be,” he replied, looking slightly taken aback, leaning a hand on the railing to steady himself. Vader could see him cast a longing look towards the crowd inside. But out here on the balcony, they were alone.

“If someone should hold the leash to my Captain, it should be me,” he replied, looking down at the man in front of him with disgust. He loathed pretend soldiers like this. Men who sat behind desks in comfortable chairs, far away from the nit and grit of a real fight.

“Is this about my son?” Moff Alden asked. Suddenly alert he pushed himself upright. “I should have known. What has the boy done now?”

Vader remained silent, contemplating. The boy had done nothing, in fact. Not yet. But he needed someone besides himself to care for Padme. Someone with no real loyalty to the emperor. But to him, and him alone.

He narrowed his eyes, studying the pleasant face of the older Alden.  It was not like he couldn’t still change his mind. And just rid himself of the boy, and that permanently. Then find someone else instead. Someone older, or at least uglier. Or better yet a woman.

 But no, he discarded the thought. That would not do.

The reason why irked him. It shouldn’t matter. But he knew Padme would quickly figure out what he had done.  And then it would fade away again. That look.  Sometime when he caught her watching him unaware, her brown eyes would soften, and she would look at him just like she had used to. Not with horror, or in fear. But with something else. He remembered that feeling. He wanted that back. He _would_ have that back. At any cost.

“Lord Vader?”

Moff Alden’s cautious calling brought him back to the present. “He is satisfactory,” he snapped. He had no patience for this. “Now tell me where they are.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Moff Alden tried. But Vader lifted his hand, cutting him of. “Do not test me.”

“You don’t get to bully me Lord Vader,” Moff Alden replied with a huff, then he turned as if to leave. “I am not one of your underlings.”

Vader bared his teeth in an imitation a smile, and slowly tightened his hand into a fist. Alden bent forward with a cough, his eyes bulging out of their sockets, shock written on his reddening face.

“Are you not?” he asked. Then held on a fraction longer, before reluctantly letting go. It would not do to murder anyone tonight. Not here. “Perhaps not,” he shrugged. “But I do make a dangerous adversary. You would do well to remember that.”

Moff Alden coughed again, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “Wait until the emperor hears of this,” he croaked.

“Please do tell him. Run along and complain, “Vader replied dryly, tilting his helmet in the direction of where the emperor was standing.  He knew Alden would do no such thing. After having finally clamoured to the rank of Moff, he would not risk losing his position again, by showing weakness. And not that the emperor would care.

Alden puffed up his chin, glaring up at him. “Why do you want to know, Lord Vader?” he asked stiffly. “This is a family affair.”

“You should have thought of that, before you sent your son to me to die. He belongs to me now,” he replied coolly. It was too late now. There were no take backs. Not from him.

The older Alden looked affronted. Even a bit shocked. Did he think, Vader did not know what he had intended? Did he take _him_ for a fool? He tightened his fist again, but resisted the temptation.

Alden glanced down at Vader’s fist, before he gripped the railing again, harder this time. “The boy is soft. It was supposed to be a learning experience.”

He moved closer to Alden, towering over the much smaller man. “Yes, a final one. A convenient way to rid yourself of an embarrassment. Now tell me. Before I lose my patience.” He looked pointedly down over the railing. It would be a very far way to fall. And it would be his pleasure to toss the pompous fool over the edge.

Moff Alden swallowed, following the direction of Vader’s eye sockets.  “I will send you the details. Though I still don’t understand what concern it is of yours.” he replied, straightening his clothes stiffly, before pushing a few buttons on his personal commlink. “There. Is there anything else I can do for you Lord Vader?”

“That will be all. For now,” he replied walking past him. Not bothering to wait for an answer, he went back inside. The emperor was standing just inside the doorway waiting for him, leaning heavily on his cane.

He clicked his tongue, looking past Vader and onto the balcony. “Mistreating our guests, are you?” he asked, eyes glinting in amusement.

Vader shrugged. “He still lives.” They fell in to step with each other. Wisely no one dared approach.

The emperor indicated with one hand he should move closer. Leaning down Vader complied. “There are rumours–” he began, and Vader felt himself stiffen.

“That leads the origin of the rebellion back to the senate,” he continued and Vader relaxed a fraction.

“We already knew that,” he replied. It was not a secret that many of the senators fought against the empire. But few did so openly. This what not news.

The emperor stopped walking, “Indeed, but now someone has been careless.”

“Would you like me to tend to this?” he asked.

“No, not yet, my friend. But soon,” the emperor replied before he walked away again, leaving Vader to stare after him. He had no idea what the emperor was plotting, but whatever it was, he felt uneasy.

Since there was nothing he could do about it now, he decided to leave. There was one more matter he had to attend to tonight.

 

* * *

 

As Vader joined the busy traffic over Coruscant, he felt more at home. What he longed for was to fly of this damned planet.  But he had not flown long, before he pointed his speeder straight down instead. Down where men like Moff Alden would never go. Down to the bottom, where the _others_ lived. Those who did not shun the light willingly. Because not having ever seen it, how could they?

When he finally reached the bottom, he landed a top of a derelict building. However, it might as well have been on another planet. Here there were no luxurious apartments. No pompous fools. Those who dwelled here, did not care if there was a republic or an empire. It made no difference to them either way.

He opened a compartment inside his speeder, pulling out another black mask. He stared at it for a moment, before putting it down on the seat next to him.

Then he grabbed a hold of his helmet.  Lifting his hands, he carefully pulled it off. Removing the mask as well, he drew a breath, pulling the air hard into his lungs. It was not enough, it was never enough. It burnt, his breath little more than a wheeze. It felt like drowning, even though he knew the air was there, just somehow always out of his reach.

Quickly he put on the smaller mask, relishing the feeling when he could finally breathe again. Once he had taken it for granted, now he could never forget. Every haggard breath was a memory of the man that had done this to him. And for that he would pay, and soon.

He took another deep breath. The mask covered only the lower half of his face. When he had first used one like it, the light had hurt his eyes. It didn’t anymore. Still it took him a while to adjust to strangeness of it. To a world not coloured red.

He stepped outside. Having worn a cloak just for this purpose, he pulled his hood close over his face. A sudden breeze lifted it briefly, caressing his brow. He closed his eyes for a moment, welcoming the touch. When he opened them again, it was to a world not red, but muted grey.  

He pulled his hood tighter again, closing the cloak around him. Walking to the edge he leapt of the building, landing on the ground with a thud. A few tired faces looked up at him, many scattering at his approach. He ignored them, he had no time for vermin.

In fact, he hated this place, its poverty, and slums, riled with prostitutes and slavers. It reminded him to much of a past he would rather forget. Though none of them, would dare cross him, even though they did not know who he really was. People that lived-in places like this, instinctively knew a stronger opponent when they saw one.

Cutting across a corner, he walked for a while ignoring the stench of the place.  But even with directions, he had a hard time finding the building he sought.  Nothing here was where it was supposed to be. There was no order here. Just a mess, a dead end. The last stop for the hopeless. He spotted such a person by an empty street corner. A cripple by the looks of it.

“I am looking for a man named Rowan,” he said. The old man looked up at him. But there was no fear there, when he caught a peak under Vader’s hood, just resignation. Or madness. With a toothless grin, he pointed a skinny hand towards a building on the other side of the street.  Vader nodded and turned away.

The old man cackled after him. “What’s up with the mask?”

He stopped dead. Some people in this place did not fear. Because they no longer cared. He knew that feeling. It was liberating, not to care. To care was to fear. He looked back over his shoulder. “Perhaps because I am ugly.”

The man cackled again. “Perhaps you are.” His laugh was hoarse and mad. It followed Vader all the way to his destination. Only stopping when he closed the door behind him.

He strode up a narrow staircase, taking two steps at the time. It was a grimy place. If not for the tracks disturbing the dust, he would have believed no one lived here. The dirt did not surprise him. Everything here was filthy. And old.

There was a single door at the end of the hallway. He opened it without knocking. The only person in the room, a bald man, was seated behind a large desk. “We are closed” he snarled, not bothering to look up.

“Not for me you are not,” Vader said quietly.

The man finally looked up, and the snarl on his face faded, as he took in the size of the large hooded man in front of him. “Perhaps I am not,” he agreed.

He was human, mid-forties. Likely fond of eating his credits if his size was anything to go by. Vader almost smiled, this he would enjoy. The man leaned back in his chair, his hand moving closer towards a blaster on his desk. His red rimmed eyes darted nervously towards the door behind Vader. But there was no one there to help him. 

Vader walked over to the desk. “You are Rowan?”

The man nodded. “How can I help you sir? “ he asked. His voice was dark and gravelly. But he could not hide his fear, not from someone like him.

“My lord,” he said firmly, simply to watch the despicable man pale.

_Despicable just like you, it said dryly._

He almost laughed at the voice then. It was true. And it was not like he denied it. He never had.

“Off course, my lord,” Rowan replied, scrambling to his feet, casting a longing look at his blaster. “Is there anything specific you’re are looking for? We have women of all races, young and old. Whichever you prefer.”

Vader crossed his arms with a sneer. This was going on beneath the very foundations of the empire? There was no order in this. The Wookie slaves at least had a purpose to strengthen the empire, this was just—

 _Slavery,_ the voice returned. Angry this time.

The man paled at Vader silence, rubbing a hand over a sweaty brow. “Or men, if that is your preference.” he stuttered after a while. Vader move closer to the desk, glowering at him beneath his hood. “I am here about a girl,” he said darkly. His hand twitched towards his lightsaber. But he refrained. Not yet. “A hybrid, human and twi'lek. About 3 years old.”

“Yes, off course sir,” Rowan replied. Vader leaned forward, putting a hand on the desk. “I mean my lord,” he amended quickly, looking away from the gloved hand, towards his blaster again. Vader pushed it onto the floor with the force.

Rowan’s eyes widened, and he sat back down, quickly typing at his computer terminal. “I have a few of those, “he replied, wiping away another layer of sweat from his brow, before he looked up at Vader again. “One age four, will that do?”

“No, that will not do,” he said coldly, straightening back to his full height, he started to walk around the desk. “I have a specific one in mind. One I was told you keep here.”

The man’s eyes darted to the door on the other side of the room, “That one is not for sale my lord, I keep it on behalf off a very powerful man, “he replied puffing up his chest, trying to seem important.

“Did I give you the impression this was a request?” he asked icily. “If so, I do apologize. Let me rectify that misconception for you.” This he wanted to do personally, so he grabbed the man by his shirt, lifting him high above his head, offering him a good look beneath his hood. Rowan paled when their eyes met.

He stuttered a response. “I… I will get her for you.”

Vader dropped him, hard. “Now.”

Rowan moved surprisingly fast for such a large man. Running away from him to the other side of the room in an instant, he unlocked the door with shaking hands. Vader strode over and pushed him out of the way.

“Is this her?” he asked, staring and the wide eyed little thing. She was alone, sitting on a filthy mattress, hiding beneath a thin blanket. A large slave collar around her neck, it looked better suited for an adult, then a little girl.

“Yes, my lord,” Rowan replied, rubbing his bald head nervously.

Vader looked around the small room, it was empty except for the girl. “Where is the mother?”

“She is ehm.. Well you see..” he started, twining his hand together. Vader turned on him. He had had enough of this by now.  When he moved. Rowan started to back away. Until his back hit his desk. “Well I sold her. Too expensive to keep. You see.”

Off course, he should have known that much. Greed was the only language these people understood.  “I do see,” he said, narrowing his eyes. He pulled his lightsaber out from beneath his cloak. It felt comfortable in his hands, familiar. This part he knew. This was what he was. No foolish jedi restrictions bound him now. He could act. When he lit it, Rowan held out his hands towards him pleadingly. “Please just take her. You can have her. No charge.”

He stalked closer. “Oh, I will,” he replied.  Before Rowan had a chance to defend himself, he fell to the ground, seared in half, his mouth still half open in shock. Putting his saber away, Vader moved back to the small room. The girl would be enough, he had no need for the mother.

By now she had crawled further under her blanket. The only thing visible, was her large eyes, just watching him warily. But she made no move to get away when he reached forward and picked her up. She only clutched her blanket closer around her thin body. She weighed so little, he barely felt it.

A thought occurred to him when he reached the door. He turned back to the desk. Opening a drawer, he quickly found what he sought. He put her down on the grimy surface. To his surprise, she whimpered and reached for him with tiny little hands.  Tugging of his glove, he put his hand to her forehead. With a gentle nudge of the force, she fell asleep in an instant, folding forward in a small heap. Little more than skin and bones.

Removing the collar, he lifted her lekku to the side, and traced the scanner across her neck. He was not surprised when it beeped.  A slave chip, he would have to remove it, or this would get messy. She whimpered again when he cut it out, but still she did not wake.  When he picked her up again, she curled trustingly against him. Resting her head against his chest and slept. He almost dropped her. He didn’t want to be touched like this. He was not safety. Not for her.

_Not for anyone._

Taking her, he got up and left.

* * *

 

Padme paced up and down the length or her room. It had been hours, and he still wasn’t back. Where was he? Was he at this very moment plotting with the emperor. Were they looking for her child?

She stopped, pulling out her necklace she stroked the etching gently. It had faded slightly at one edge, probably her slowly polishing the carving away with her thumb. She feared is she kept this up, soon there would be nothing left, just a piece of japor. As faded as the love of the man that had carved it.

She sighed, and put it back where it belonged. Close to her heart. There was hope. There had to be. He would not betray them to the emperor. He just wouldn’t.

The sound of heavy boots reached her ears. With equals parts hope and dread, she ran to her door. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she pushed the release and peaked into the corridor.

What she saw made her hesitate. At the end of the corridor, a large hooded man was walking towards Vader quarters.  At first, she felt confused. She had expected to see the back of Vader’s helmet. By now it had almost grown familiar to her. That dead expression, the dark eye sockets, were soft blue eyes should have been. But this, this was something else.  Her worn heart skipped a beat.  It couldn’t be, could it?

“Anakin,” she asked cautiously, stepping all the way into the corridor. She would not hide in the doorway, like a coward.

He stopped dead at her words, but didn’t turn around to face her.

“Go to bed Padme,” he said firmly.

She had taken another half step towards him, but her foot froze mid-air, at the sound of that voice. She pulled back, shocked to her very core. Even slightly muted, there was no mistaking it, it was Anakin's voice, not the deep cold baritone of Vader. Padme shuddered, it had been years since she had last heard him speak. Though she had never forgotten his very last words to her. They had been venomous and cold, words of treason. But he had been the traitor then, not she.

“No,” she replied, and this time she took the step towards him. She wasn’t going anywhere. Slowly he started to turn. She held her breath for what felt like an eternity, until finally they were facing each other. Truly for the first time since Mustafar.

She lifted her eyes, the black mask he was wearing covered most of his face. And to her disappointment, the hood of his cloak hung low over his forehead, obstructing her view of his eyes. How could she known them then, how could she see? She moved closer.

“Padme,” he said with a hint of warning this time.  She hesitated, she had heard what he did not say. _Just don’t, don’t come anywhere near me._ But if he didn’t want her to see him, why did he keep her here? What did he want from her?

He stood very still, but she could feel his eyes watching her, studying her every move. It was not enough, she wanted to see them. She _needed_ to see them, so very desperately.

Yet, there was also another part of her, that wanted to turn around and run back into her room. It didn’t want to see. It didn’t want to know. Because that part of her, was terrified of what she would find, or as the case would have it, not find.

If he was scared and ugly, she would not care, as long as beneath it all, he was still her husband. Because it was not his scars she feared. What she feared, was that she would finally see that Anakin was truly gone.  That she would find no trace of him, beneath it all.

However, this was not the time for cowardice, so she forced herself to take another step towards him.

He stiffened. “Come to see Obi Wan’s handy work, have you?” he asked, with a chill in his voice.

His words were cold enough, that they should have frozen her in place.  But there was a fire in her belly now, not even his coldness could stop her. She pressed forward, shaking her head slightly. Lifting her head, she tried to gaze beneath his hood, because even if she was too far away to see his eyes, she knew he could see hers. And if he didn’t believe in her honesty now, she feared she would lose what little he had given her. That part of Anakin he tried so very hard to hide.  So, she let him see her then, raw, and exposed.  Her heart laid bare, for him to trample if he wished.

“I never wanted you to hurt Anakin. Never,” she said softly. But even though she had tried her hardest to make him see, it seemed it wasn’t enough, because he laughed. The hollow, empty sound as cold as his voice had been.

“And here I thought, this was what I deserved. I did it to myself after all “he said sarcastically, lifting his cloak to the side. Exposing himself, flaunting the small panel on his chest, as if he was proud of it.

She swallowed hard. How could he believe, she had wanted this for him? She had loved him. So very, very, much. But she remembered her words then, she had said it, hadn’t she? In anger and in fear. _You did this to yourself._

She hesitated and she knew he saw it. It was there in her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to hide it from him. The resentment she felt for what he had done, the part of her that did want to punish him. But not like this, never like this. She had to make him see that, so she tried again.

“You hurt me Anakin. Does it surprise you, I would say things to hurt you as well? I am only human Anakin, just like you are. And I am tired, and afraid.”

And alone, so very alone. Just like he was. She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes. _Please come back to me. So, neither of us, has to be alone. Not anymore._

He didn’t hear her unspoken plea. “Don’t call me that,” he snapped. That he had decided to focus on his name, instead of her words, was not a good sign.  He had just shut a door in her face, retreated back into himself, where he would allow no one to touch him, not even her. 

“It’s your name,” she tried weakly. He hadn’t moved at all, but something in his demeanour had changed. She stiffened, suddenly afraid.

“You will not find _him_ here,” he growled at her. And then he did move, stalked towards her as if she was something ugly he wanted to squash. She held her ground, he was trying deliberately to frighten her, she realised. To push her away, but she couldn’t let him. Not this time.

It was a brave thought, but her churning stomach and jumpy heart, disagreed with her. But still she forced herself to remain, she would not run. He would not make her flee. He stopped just out of reach, looming over her. She looked up, and caught her first glimpse of his eyes. The shadow of the hood, kept their colour from her. But just that tiny glimpse, increase her determination.

“Yes, I will,” she stated, stubbornly. He would not convince her otherwise. “I already have.” 

His hands shot out, and he grabbed her by her shoulders, forcibly turning her around. Before she knew what had happened, he had pushed her up against the wall. His grip firm, but not painful. “I suggest you look again,” he hissed down at her.

She squeezed her eyes shut. He would not hurt her. He would not hurt her, she told her racing heart, repeatedly, but it didn’t stop hammering in her chest. It didn’t believe her words. Because how could it when she didn’t herself?

She swallowed. There was hope, there was always hope. With a breath, she opened her eyes and looked. Golden eyes were staring down at her angrily. His hands on her, felt like a threat, her body crowded by his, so very small.

But she held his gaze, unable to look away. His eyes pulled at her, threating to turn her to ashes from their intensity. Only in her dreams had she seen them like this. Because to her, they had always been blue, even in his darkest moment. Even when he assaulted her, they had remained blue. It was only in her nightmares they had been golden. Somehow, she had conjured them that way, knowing what dark side corruption could do. But it had been just a nightmare, this was real. From this she would never wake.

“Now do you see?” he asked, shaking her slightly, as if he was trying to force his hopelessness into her, to poison her with his despair. He was furious with her, with himself. But still his touch didn’t hurt.

She lifted her hands to rest them gently on his. “Yes, I do see, “she whispered.

His eyes widened, and he leaned forward slightly, his large cloak enveloping them both. “Fool,” he said, into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “You are a fool.” Then he wrenched away from her, and entered his quarters. She remained there, glued to the wall like an ornament. Her heart was racing, but that was just proof it was still beating. “Yes,” she said to no one, to herself. “I very much fear I am a fool.”But if she was a fool, she was his fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been away for weeks, so no time to write. But now I am back:)


	18. Chapter 18

Dolros stared down his nose, at the rows upon rows of busy marked stalls in dismay. Everywhere aliens of all races were bartering with each other, over goods from all across the galaxy. Like they were actual civilized beings. If it was up to him he would have them all thrown of Coruscant.  When he got home tonight, he would have to bathe for a week simply to get the filth of.

But it could not be helped. Absently he rubbed a hand across his immaculate uniform. Although he might be only one of many of the Emperors eyes and ears. He was the one that had been singled out to spy directly on the enforcer himself.

So, far it had been rather uneventful, he had to admit. Lord Vader, acted every bit as cold and mechanical as the machine he allegedly was. Dolros did not know, nor care what lay beneath the mask. Only that he served the Emperor well, which Lord Vader did, with a ruthlessness and efficiency Dolros admired.

Although, Dolros frowned, lately something had changed. Security had increased, any surveillance he had manged to install subtly destroyed.  Which was Vader first mistake, he had gone from not caring about privacy, to caring a little too much. There could be only one reason for such change in behaviour, Vader was hiding something.

And that was what had led Dolros here this evening. Just then Alden reappeared among the crowd, making his way towards a fruit vendor. Dolros smiled.  Vader may be beyond his reach, but his subordinates were not.

Alden was haggling with a gungan woman, when Dolros strode over to join him. “It seems every time we meet you are skipping out on your duties,” he said smoothly.

Alden ignored him, instead he kept picking through the various fruits on the table in front of him. When he found one that was satisfactory, he looked up his expression blank. “What do you want Dolros? Isn’t there someone else you can pester instead?”

Dolros smirked, indicating the bazaar. “Come here looking for a new girlfriend, have you? Was the pretty little thing you had with you last time, to human for you taste?”

Alden’s jaw clenched. “That is none of your concern,” he bit out, turning away from Dolros in a gesture of clear dismissal.

Dolros lips tightened, he was far from done. “True. And I suppose it’s none any of my concern either, that Lord Vader was seen in public, assaulting your father.”

“What?” Alden’s head snapped back up.

Dolros suppressed a smile, plucking a large white fruit from the table, juggling it in his hands. “Oh, you didn’t know? And here I thought you and Lord Vader were close. Since you live with him now, and all. I thought maybe you had sent him to do your dirty work. We both know, you have reasons to wish your father dead.”

Something dark flashed in Alden’s eyes. “Now you are just being absurd and you know it.”

Well off course, Dolros thought no such thing. But it was strange. It was all strange. The gungan woman’s protruding eyes flickered between them, and he gave her a hard stare, until she squirmed and looked away. Ugly thing. Dolros knew her kind were native to Naboo. But few of them ever left, and those who did were usually outcast. He wished they would all remain there, and not sully the capital with their presence. 

Alden turned back to his shopping. But there was an urgency to his movements that hadn’t been there before

Something niggled in the back of Dolros mind, as he studied the fruit. Naboo, he had only every been there once. Years ago, before the rise of the Emperor. The queen at the time, had fostered a relationship with the gungan savages.  But why he would think of her now, he didn’t know. Distracted the fruit slipped from his grip.

Alden sighed. “Are you going to pay for that? “

“I am an imperial officer, I can take what I like from her kind,” he replied, not bothering to hide his disgust.

“That I believe, is the description of a thug. Not an officer,” Alden replied, shrugging “But I suppose if the description fits.”

Dolros narrowed his eyes at the insult, his hand itching for the shiv in his boot. Alden had done a decent job averting his efforts, he was the reason he couldn’t even go nears Vader’s tower. Yet, his job was information not murder. Murder was messy. Though he was not personally opposed.

He took a step closer towards Alden, but as he did there was a squishing sound, and something wet hit his face. Alden chuckled. Dolros looked down noticing he had stepped on the fruit, getting pieces all over his uniform and newly polished boots.

Alden arched a mocking eyebrow. “Perhaps you so go home and tend to that. Before someone sees you.” The gungan sniggered. Dolros jerked his head in her direction. “Be quiet! “he hissed, wiping his face with his sleeve.

Alden stepped between them. Shaking his head at Dolros, before turning to the gungan. “Never mind him. His mother never taught him any manners. “Alden told the her, as he paid for his wares, including the fruit now staining Dolors boot.

“Yousa nice,” she muttered to Alden, avoiding to look anywhere in Dolros direction.

He just chuckled. “Well Alden here,  always did have a thing for aliens. I for one, don’t understand how he could bare to touch one. Filthy creatures,” he spat, kicking her stall hard with his boot.

The gungan woman retreated again. Alden spun around to face him. “That is enough Dolros. Leave. Or I will remove you!” he snapped, tilting his head in the direction of three Stormtroopers making their way through the crowd towards them. They were from Vader’s 501st no doubt. It seemed it was his que to leave.

But Alden’s defensive posture stirred another memory. The petite little woman, Alden had been protecting. Vader strange change in behaviour had coincided with her arrival.  Since she had been dressed as an imperial, he had thought nothing more of her. After all, there were thousands of crew members on an Imperial class star destroyer.  He just assumed he had probably just seen her in passing. But perhaps he she had recognized her, from another place entirely. He looked at the gungan woman again, smiling this time.

“Oh no, don’t strain yourself Alden. I will leave,” he said. Though he was not certain, it seemed he might have something to report to the Emperor after all.

* * *

 

Padme lay on her back in the big bed, staring up at the celling. But it was still too dark to make out any of the details. Though she knew them all by heart, after having stared at them for hours on end. It was just a dull celling like any other. Shifting around on her pillow, she turned towards the window. Outside night was slowly giving away to dawn, as the first thin rays of sunshine tried to break through, making the sky more blue than black. But the night was not ready to relinquish its hold just yet.

If everything went as it usually did, it would not be long now. Pulling the bed covers more firmly around herself, she turned back towards the door. As she had expected, it did not take long, before the sound of his lonely footfalls echoing down the corridor, reached her ears.  Then suddenly there was only silence. She shivered, he had stopped right outside her door. Just like she had known he would.

Stilling her own breath, she lay there for another moment, listening to the faint sound of his respirator through the door. Before as quietly as she could, she wiggled to the side of the bed. Once there, she emerged from her warm covers, suppressing a gasp as her bare feet hit the cold floor.

After wrapping herself in her robe, she tiptoed over to the door. She knew he hadn’t moved from his spot on the other side. It was not the first night he had done this, or the second. Or even the third. For how long he stayed varied. But he always came. Once before he left at night, to go wherever it was he went. And once when he returned, always just right before dawn. All her senses on high alert, she never failed to hear him as he passed.

Cautiously Padme put her hand on the cool metal door. Though he always came, he never entered. For a brief moment, she entertained the idea of opening the door herself. But quickly thought better of it. Let him come to her, if he wished. Yet he hadn’t, not since... Not since then.

In her throat, she could feel her pulse race, making her hand tremble ever so slightly.  Remembering she needed air, she drew a deep breath. On the other side his breathing remained calm. It was always so annoyingly calm. How could it be so calm?

Clenching her hand, she resisted the temptation to hit the door with her fist.  But that would only alert him to her presence, and she didn’t want him to know she was standing there. Let him think she slept peacefully in her bed, not thinking of him at all. Not thinking of him all the time. Him and his cursed eyes.

She squeezed her eyes shut, seeing the deep yellow orbs in her mind’s eye. He was cursed. His touch poison. Yet, then why did she still crave it? Seeing his eyes should have brought her certainty, all it had done was bring her more turmoil. The urge to reach out, to try and save him, to pull him back, was slowly becoming an obsession.  But that was madness, wasn’t it? He had chosen to become a monster. To become this _thing._

She sucked in a breath. At least he was right about something at least, she was a fool. She couldn’t save him, no one could. Except perhaps one person. Himself.

There was a faint rustling sound from the hallway, accompanied by a dull thud, shaking the door slightly. Startled, she jumped back a step, not able to stop a gasp escaping her lips. Outside it went completely quiet, even the sound of the respirator stopped dead. The only thing she could hear was the thudding of her own heart. However, his silence meant nothing, he was still there, just a thin sheet of metal away. Although he might as well be on the other side of the galaxy for all the difference it made.

 Yet now, he knew she was standing there too.

Frozen on the spot, she stared at the door in equal measure of trepidation and anticipation, waiting for it to open. Battling the meaning of the strange disappointment in her gut, when it didn’t. A mean streak in her, wanted to shout coward at him over the silence. But she shut it up. He might actually open the door, if she did. In fact, she knew he would. Anakin had never been able to resist a challenge, and she doubted Vader was any different, not when it came to her.  

And she wasn’t ready. Not here. Not now, in the dark, barely dressed.  With no light to give her the courage to fight him. To fight the pull, he had over her, even now. Although she knew in her heart, she would never give in to it. Not even for him, would she surrender her principles.

But that there was a piece of her that was still drawn to him, to this shadow of who he once had been, frightened her. Stubbornly it still wanted him, no matter how she hard she tried to fight it. Although it was not the darkness in him she craved, she knew it was a part of him, it always had been. She could not have one, without the other.

The mechanical breathing started back up again.

Having regained her courage, she stepped closer, lying her cheek on the door, letting the cold metal cool her skin. But without the light in him to balance the scale, all that was left on the other side of this door was the dark. For all that Anakin, had ever been, good or ill, when his light truly had shone, it had been brilliant, warming all he allowed close in its glow. Right now, she would give almost anything to feel its warmth on her again.  

To calm herself, she closed her eyes again, focusing only on her breathing, and on his. Until her own slowed to match his, and they were breathing in tandem. For a moment, just like one single being.

All caution in her evaporated, and her hand moved towards the door release on its own volition. She didn’t need the sun to give her strength, she had her own. But just then there was a slight tremble in the door beneath her cheek. And the sound of his footsteps, yet again reached her ears. And then he was gone, vanished like he had just been a figment of her imagination.

Padme twisted around, so her back was leaning on the door. Outside the sky had turned a brilliant shade of violet and red, painting the room in a faint red hue. The light should have brought her comfort, all it did was remind her of blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter suffered about three rewrites, I faff to much, hehe.  
> Vader totally hit the door with his helmet just in case that wasn't obvious. Poor man.  
> And the little girls identity will revealed soon.


	19. Chapter 19

 

Padme sat in a comfortable chair by the window, twiddling a fork in her hands. Although it was no knife, it was all she had manged to sneak away from Alden’s perceptive gaze. She smiled to herself, but perhaps he was not quite perceptive enough.  Leaning forward she grabbed a large fruit, from a bowl on the table. After all Alden, had said nothing when she had requested them.

Carefully she dug out the seed. Obi Wan used the same type, for one his soothing teas. The same one, he had kept trying to make her drink. All it had ever done, was make her drowsy. Now she could only hope, in a strong enough doze, it would do more than that.

Using the fork, she started to grind it into a thin powder. It was tedious work. Her hand moved across the hard surface in an even motion, as quickly as she could.  But even so, it was time consuming. In a moment of carelessness, the fork slipped, digging itself into her palm, piercing the skin.

Wincing she watched the blood flow down her hand, towards her metal cuff. It stung, but she didn’t think the cut was too deep. Getting up, she walked to her bath, gently wrapping a piece of cloth around her injury. But the blood seeped through, staining it in an instant.

It was not only the cloth, that felt stained. How much blood had been spilled in her name, she would never know. And it didn’t matter, how hard she tried telling herself, Vader’s actions were his own. Had this not all started because of her? In fear for her?

With a sigh, she stared up at her own reflection in the mirror. She looked gaunt, the lack of sunlight had made her skin look pallid and unhealthy. Her pale reflection grimaced at her, revealing a terrible truth. That she _didn’t_ really want to know. 

Turning on the tap, she washed her hand, watching as the blood mixed with the water, churning around in a downward spiral, before finally disappearing down the drain.  Yet out of sight, was not out of mind. There was a throbbing pain in her palm, a reminder of what had happened, one that might even scar.

Resting her non-injured hand on the sink, she took a deep breath. Nothing could ever wash away the amount of innocent blood Vader had spilt. And because of those people, those who lay dead by his hand, she couldn’t look away, even if she wanted too. The very least she could do, was to try to prevent it from happening again. If she could do nothing else.

After wrapping her hand again, she splashed her face with cold water, hoping it would wake her up.  But it didn’t. When she wiped the water away, this time she avoided her own gaze, not ready for what she would find there. The answer to the uncomfortable question, she kept asking herself. What if against all odds, he did find his way back. To himself, to her.  Could she live with what he had done? Even more importantly, could he?

The sound of voices approaching, interrupted her morbid thoughts, and she hurried back into her room.  Sitting back down, she quickly removed any trace of her activities. Just as she was busy stuffing the fork into her pocket, the door opened, and Alden appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray of food.

“Thank you,” she replied, when he sat it down on the table in front of her. Though she was not hungry. Lately she was never hungry.

Alden gave her a friendly nod in return, but when he noticed her bandaged hand he frowned. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing, I am just clumsy,” she lied. Alden’s eyes narrowed a fraction, but he nodded, letting the matter go.  

Behind him Vader appeared in the doorway, and she quickly hid her hand beneath the table, watching him carefully. Unlike Alden, he did not enter, choosing instead to remain in the doorframe, his large body filling the entirety of it. Despite his breathing, the room felt suddenly quiet. Too quiet.

Alden shuffled uncomfortable on his feet, trying to avoid looking directly at either of them. She on the other hand, found herself unable to look away.

Slowly Vader’s mask tilted in her direction, but still he didn’t speak. One of his hands reached forwards and gripped the doorframe tightly, as if to stop himself from stepping inside.

In defiance, she lifted her chin daring him to. They stared at each other, for seconds, minutes even, for how long she couldn’t tell. Before he walked over the threshold, making his way slowly towards her.

She forced herself to remain seated. It would not make her feel any bigger if she stood. Not even if she climbed on to the table. It was more than the sheer size of him that made her feel small. There was an untamed power within him, one she didn’t need to be a jedi to feel. One that could crush her so easily, it almost had.

In the background, she barely registered Alden moving out of the way, wide eyed. But her attention was all on Vader, as one dark hand reached towards her face. Remaining still, she eyed it carefully, as he gently lifted her chin. Even through the glove, his touch made her skin prickle in awareness.

Slowly he tilted her head to one side, then the other, as if inspecting her. Glaring up at him, she was just about to pull her head away, when he let go, spinning around to advance on Alden.

“She is too thin,” he stated in his dark voice, addressing Alden, like she wasn’t even in the room. Or like she was an unruly child, that needed to be managed. Padme felt her temper flare. She was older then him, or had he forgotten that.

“See to it, that she eats.”  

Although Vader had said nothing directly, she got the feeling, there had been a threat in there somewhere. Because Alden had gone deathly pale. “Off course my lord,” he said weakly.

Before she had time to think, she jumped to her feet, and strode over too them. “I am right here you know. Speak to me, not him, if there is something you want,” she snapped. At her words, he turned around, taking a step towards her.

Lifting her injured hand, she put her palm to his chest, halting his approach. “Don’t,” she said stiffly. She would not allow him to rattle her again. Yet she knew, if he chose to, she would be powerless to stop him. He had all the power here.

But much to her surprise, he relented beneath her touch. Up close, the white bandage on her hand, stood in stark contrast to the dark leather. And she noticed her fingers had grasped the fabric of his outer tunic, so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Vaguely she heard someone let out a gasp, but it wasn’t her. Or perhaps it was, she honestly couldn’t tell.

Just touching him made her anger fade into her confusion. Drawing a deep breath, she lifted her head, eyeing him warily. Hidden behind his mask, did his eyes burn with fury as he gazed at her now?

Vader said nothing, but neither did he push her away. Instead his hand reached up and clasped hers, pressing it closer to his chest. She nearly winced from the pain, her hand still throbbing from where she had cut it. When he finally spoke, she felt the sound vibrate through her palm, as much as she heard it out loud.

“Very well,” he said, and moved his body forward, forcing her to retreat backwards, in a strange mockery of a dance. When they reached the table, he stopped, indicating her food with his free hand. “Eat.”

Still holding on to him, she glanced down at the food, she should eat. It was not like she was deliberately starving herself. Yet all her sleepless night, lying awake worrying about the twins, not to mention their father, had made her lose her appetite. After a while she nodded her consent, she would eat. But not because he had ordered her to, but because she needed her strength. Yet when she moved to pull away, he refused to relinquish her hand.

“Your bleeding,” he said. She blinked staring at the bandage, only then noticing the red stain. The cut must have been deeper then she initially thought.

“I was careless,” she admitted, watching him gently hold her hand in his. Wearing his mask again, he appeared more at ease. If such a word could truly be used to described him at all.

She didn’t know what he looked like beneath it, but the little she had seen, had not deterred her. Except for perhaps the eyes.

After wearing a mask for so long, she supposed it could easily become a part of someone. Perhaps he hadn’t been ready to take it off in front of her. Even partly. “I pushed a little too hard, when I should have waited. I do that sometimes.”

The mask tilted again, and she didn’t know if he got her double meaning, or not. Abruptly he let go and stepped back. “Have that tended to, then eat. I will be gone for the evening.”  With that he turned and left the room.

“I think you are insane. Just so you know.”

At the sound of Alden’s voice, Padme startled, she had completely forgotten he was still there. Still watching the door where Vader had vanished, she nodded. “Oh, I am. I have to be.” Or at least she would be soon enough, if this kept up.

“Come, let’s go to the medical bay, and get that dealt with.” Alden added. When he led her out into the corridor, towards one of the few locked door on this floor, he pulled a cylindrical shaped key from his pocket, inserting into the panel by the door.

When he started typing in his access code, Padme had to suppress a smile, as she peaked over his shoulder. She had not planned on how to get the code yet, and now it seemed she didn’t have to.

After the medical droid, had bandage her properly, Alden escorted her back into her room. Under his gaze, she ate most of the food he had brought her, even if it did make her feel slightly ill.

Vader might have locked her up like a child, he might have taken her freedom, muddled her mind. But he would not take her will, that was her own. Making her mind up she poured herself a cup of tea, and smiled at Alden “Some tea Captain?”

“Yes, thank you,” he replied returning her smile. Before she could change her mind, she poured a generous doze of the black powder into his cup, when he wasn’t looking. Handing him the cup, she suppressed the guilt. Although she had not intended to do anything yet, she knew better than to let an opportunity like this pass her by.

And if everything went as planned, he would just go to sleep, and never know what happened.

When Padme entered his room later that evening.  Alden was lying on his stomach, stretched across his bed, snoring softly, still dressed in his uniform, even his boots. Tip toeing into the room, she approached the bed, and as carefully as she could, pulled his access key from his pocket.

“I am sorry Captain, sleep well,” she whispered, before retreating quietly, making her way down the corridor until she reached Vader’s quarters. He spent hours in there, and she intended to find out what was doing. Carefully she inserted the key, and typed the access code into the panel. A sudden screeching noise behind her, made her jump in her skin, and she spun around.

When she noticed the little droid at her feet, she let out a breath of relief, “Oh, it’s you.”

Usually the small maintenance droid it tended to ignored her. Now it was busy hovering around her feet, beeping in agitation. Padme waved her hand at it, “Shoo, get out of here!” It stopped abruptly, beeping what she was pretty sure was an insult, before it turned and left in a huff.

Padme hesitated, as cold air tickled the back of her neck. Frowning she turned, behind her the door had already opened. Eyeing it with trepidation, she stepped inside. It was too late to turn back now. It was dark only adding to her sense of unease, and like most of the rooms in the tower, it was sparsely furnished. The only thing that drew her attention was the large black dome at its center.

Curious she walked over, tracing her hand along the shiny surface, looking for a release mechanism. Just that simple contact made her skin erupt in goose bumps.

Feeling cold she let go and hugged herself, this entire room felt wrong. The sith fed on their darker emotions, she knew that. Perhaps an echo of that, was what lingered here. Vader had it too, that sense of blackness. Of wrongness. Ever since her brush with death, she felt those things more keenly. Not like Obi Wan or the twins off course, but somehow more than before. It was another thing she chose not to dwell on.

Ignoring the revulsion, she reached forward again, following the jagged line of what appeared to be the opening with her hand. Finally, she found what she was sought and pushed. The roof of the dome lifted surprisingly quietly, exposing the interior. It was sparse, built around a large leather seat.

For a moment, she hesitated, this was his domain, and she got the feeling no one ever entered here. No one would want to. Unfortunately, that meant this was exactly where she had to go.

Gingerly she sat down, feeling every bit like the intruder she was. The seat was way too big for her, and for a moment, it felt like it was trying to swallow her hole, and she suppressed another shiver. Stubbornly she shook it off, she would not fear this place, she would not fear _him_. Even if he tried to bully her to do so, especially if he tried to bully her. It only made her more determined.

Leaning back, she gently ran a hand across the leather surface. Feeling its bumps and ridges, below her fingertips. It bore traces of being well used. Like he would sit here for hours.  Lingering in in this very spot. She could not help but wonder if he wore his gloves in here when he did. Or had his hand touched the very place, where hers was touching now?

Was this the only place he truly took the helmet of? The only place he could be human? It must be a lonely way to live, cut away from everything. At home, her office had been her hiding spot. Every day, every hour, she had tried to push away thoughts of him. But only there had she allowed herself to dwell. Perhaps in here, he had thought of her as well.

Did being in here bring him any peace? Somehow, she doubted that. Peace was not what he was looking for. No, he was looking for his anger.   So, he could feed on it, then disappear to that place where she didn’t know how to reach him.

Before, she had thought she had known him. Known at least in part the extent of his confusion.  But she hadn’t. Not really. However, this time she would not allow him to push her away. This time she would push back. But the thing was, she didn’t know how.  To figure that out, she had to understand him.

However, that wasn’t what had brought her here tonight.

After a few tries, she figured out how the seat worked, and swung it around to face the other side of the dome. Testing a few on the buttons on the panel surrounding her on each side, the screen on the wall ahead lit up.

She creased her forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on. Mostly what she found was information on the imperial navy. Troop movement. Details on occupations. All thing she would expect from the empire. But not information on what she was really looking for.

When she had been sitting there for what felt like hours, a single image appeared on the screen. It was the unfished skeleton of a large sphere. Squinting she tried to make out the scale and dimension. That had to be a mistake, surely.

Leaning forward she blinked, just to make sure she had read the it right. At that very moment the chamber hissed all around her, and the roof of the dome started lowering back down obstructing her view.

Stomach churning, she twisted around, half terrified she would spot Vader standing behind her. But there was nothing moving in the shadows of the room. Crawling over the seat, she tried to squeeze between the opening before it closed completely, but it was already too late. On the floor below her, she spotted the little droid. It was beeping in triumph as it retracted its arm. And with a quiet swish, she found herself sealed in.

Standing in the seat, she kicked the inside of the dome. “When I get out of here, I am going to turn you into scrap metal. Do you hear me?” There was no reply but silence. Closed in the dome felt more repressive than ever.

Turning she crawled back into the seat, sinking into it with a frustrated sigh. It was only when she realised the she could not open it from the inside, panic really sat it.

Padme sank further down into the seat, there was always the slim change Alden would wake up and find her, but she doubted it, she had dozed him well. Her head lulled forward, and she curled her legs up under her. Something was digging painfully into her thigh. That’s when she remembered the fork she still had stuffed in her pocket. Pulling it out she lay it down on her thighs. Then she spun the seat around to face the entrance. If she was going to get caught, she would face him head on.


	20. Chapter 20

Vader strode towards a set of high shelves lining the wall in front of him, his boots making large imprints in the dust as he walked. Eyes searching, he glanced up. Stretching all the way from the floor to the vaulted ceiling high above him, holocrons and holobooks, lined every wall, and countless shelves in between. Some still shimmering in a pale light. Yet, they shone for no one in particular, if you discounted him that was. Because no one, besides him and the Emperor, knew of this place, and the closely guarded secrets it held.

All those who might once have known, were now long dead. For this, was all the remained of the once vast Jedi library. Now hidden, in the cellars deep beneath the Imperial Palace, to make sure it’s knowledge never again saw the light of day.

Reaching forward, he grasped a particularly mangled holocron in his fist. Its edges were scuffed, and bent. He knew it spoke of healing, of using the force to achieve the impossible. Vader scoffed, it had turned out to be as useless as the order that had created it. For that, it had ended its days hurled at a wall. And now, all it did was rest on a dusty shelf among others just like it. A part of the collection, once forbidden to him as a lowly Jedi knight, instead reserved only for its haughty masters.

Yet, where were they now? He almost smirked at the thought, nothing was forbidden to him now.  There was no one left alive to deny him.

His momentary satisfaction faded. That wasn’t true, was it? There was still one that did, the only one who had the power to do so.  Eyes narrowed, he looked up towards the vaulted ceiling.

Even from here, floors below the Emperors chambers, he could feel his master’s presence. The dark current, that kept drawing him back to this place, with a promise of more knowledge, of more power.

At first, when his rage had still run fresh, he had asked the Emperor, why he hadn’t simply destroyed the library, removing any trace that the Jedi had ever existed, once and for all. To that, Palpatine had given him a patronizing smile. “Knowledge is knowledge no matter where it comes from, Lord Vader. And knowledge is power,” he had said, his voice rough and low, joyful glee reflected in his eyes. It was only then, Vader had truly understood just how much his master had wanted the order destroyed, and how he had used him as the tool to achieve it.

_Used._

Vader gritted his teeth, squeezing the holocron tight. That’s what they had all wanted, to use him. Never to acknowledge or respect him. Well, no more, he had seen to that. The order was nothing now. The word jedi had no meaning anymore, expect perhaps as analogy for defeat. Annihilation. The fool that had once been the council’s weak puppet, was long gone.

_Instead you are his puppet now._

Inwardly he sneered, perhaps he was. But he had learned his lesson all too well, and knew better than to attack, when he knew he could not win. Instead he would bide his time. For, now at least.

Letting go of the worthless holocron, he bent down _,_ grabbing a different one from the shelf. This ones intricate design, showed little signs of wear and tear, yet he knew it was ancient.  Satisfied it was the correct one, he kneeled onto the floor, putting it down just in front of him.

The subject of shielding ones force presence, was a subject, he had never much concerned himself with, having always preferred a more direct approach. Yet, Padme’s strange condition puzzled him, and he would figure out, how her presence had been hidden from him. Because the Emperor was right, knowledge was power.

Within the walls of the Imperial Palace, a remnant of the fury he had unleashed during the purge, still lingered, even down here. So, he barely had to call for the force, before his power surged, and the holocron started to glow softly. As it opened, a holo of an old man appeared. Vader closed his eyes, focusing on the man’s dull tones, as he spoke.

Long after the ancient Jedi had ceased talking, Vader remained on his knees, contemplating what he had learned. But at the sound of murmuring voices in the distance, his eyes flew open, only to find himself no longer seated in the basement archive. Surveying his surroundings, he rose to his feet.

The walls of the vault, had transformed, and instead looked like, they had been carved directly from solid rock. Pulsing in a steady rhythm, the dark cavernous spaces only light source, came from a strange dark red lattice work, decorating the cave walls. A vision, he was no stranger to them. Yet, this one was strong. Very strong. The dark side, permeated the air all around him, and he felt it seep into him. Calling to him, bringing with it the familiar elation coursing through his blood.

Just ahead of him, a steep stone staircase led up towards a wide dais. With long strides, he followed its pull. On top of the flat platform, located at its center, stood a large stone alter. A small body shrouded in white, rested on its obsidian surface.

The voices had intensified, drawing his attention. Off to one side of the shrine, a crowd of hooded shadows lingered, swinging gently back and forth, like leaf’s in a breeze, murmuring words in a language he could not comprehend.

Moving closer to the alter, he ignored the apparitions. Whoever, or whatever they were, could not harm him, unless he let them. Each step closer, increased its pull. Yet, even through the haze of darkness clouding his vision, he saw her.

In stark contrast to the dark surroundings. At the foott of the shrine, carved from a stone so white it almost shone, a statue of a woman sat on her knees. He got the distinct feeling, she didn’t belong there.

Head bent, one hand held out in a placative gesture, the other placed over her heart. She was so delicately carved, she was life like, he dress pooling softly around her feet.

It tugged at a deeply buried part of him, unable to resist he moved closer. It was only when he stood right in front of her, that he realized the statue had no face. Someone had chiseled it away, cutting deep groves into the pale stone. Before he could think, he had reached a hand out to touch the ragged scour marks, but stopped as the tip of his boot hit a small slab of stone, by the statues knees. The woman’s face.  Crouching down he picked it up, twisting it around in his hands. The vacant eyes staring back up at him, did so from a face he knew as well as his own. 

“Padme,” he said softly, stroking one bare finger across cold stone lips.

“Vader’s whore.”  A deep voice spoke clearly.

Anger rushing through him, his head snapped up, ready to silence the voice that had dared uttered those words. By now, the figures had all stopped moving. But when he sought to single out the speaker, he noticed that beneath the hoods, the shadows were just as faceless as the statue. Slowly in unison, they all turned from him, eyeless heads focusing instead on the body. Following their gaze, only then did Vader felt his first frisson of unease.

“Did something to anger him they say.” Another, softer voice added. Staring at the body, Vader dropped the stone face, and it shattered by his boots. 

“Yes. They found her body all twisted and broken.” The first one spoke again.

“Serves her right,” A third one said, and Vader heard the unmistakable sound of spitting. “If you love a monster, don’t be surprised when it devours you.”

Several other voices echoed their agreement, but Vader’s attention was only for the shroud covered figure.  Heart thudding in his throat, he approached the stone alter, and carefully pulled the cover down, exposing her face. Instantly he shrank back, even though he had already known what awaited him.

If he had thought Padme had looked pale, and thin this evening. It was nothing compared to the lifeless form lying in front of him now. Her skin was as white as the sheet covering her, brown eyes wide open, but there was no life there. Not even the sadness he saw in her eyes, every time he looked at her.

He took a deep breath, it was just an illusion, more lies. Turning to the hooded crowd, he spoke, “I don’t fear you. Or your lies. She is _mine_ , I will keep her safe.”

“Fear us? No, I shouldn’t think so.” One chuckled, lifting a hand it pointed to the body. “It’s yourself you fear. Why else would you envision this?”

Following the direction of the bony finger back to Padme’s face, he gently closed her eyes, not wanting to look at them any longer. “I would never kill her, never.”

One figure stepped ahead of the rest, and spoke again. “If you do not kill her, the life you have forced her into slowly will. There is no love in the dark.” He lifted his arms to the shadows at his side, “We would know.”

“Yes, we know.” A chorus of voices, repeated, as the figures started to gently sway anew.

“What would you know? You are not real,” he sneered, he was getting tired of this nonsense.

“True, we are only echoes. But with time our echo was enough,” The speaker said, cocking its head as if contemplating. “Perhaps yours will be too.”

“Enough for what?”

The figures head lifted slightly, and for a brief moment a face appeared, red eyes piercing out from beneath the shadows of the hood. “As the remnant of your fury still lives in these halls, so too does ours.” Slowly the apparitions started to fade away one by one. Just before the last one vanished, one last whisper reached his ears. “At the very foundation of this temple, our echo dwells.”

Vader frowned. However, before he could figure out their meaning, another voice spoke. But this one, he knew all too well.

“Why shouldn’t you kill her?” It croaked.

Turning around, he saw the familiar figure of the Emperor, taking the last few steps on to the dais.

“Kill her, and the dark power it will grant you, will make you the greatest sith the galaxy has ever known. Greater than even me.”

The deep-seated anger he felt for this man, this deceiver, rose up within him. “This is not what I wanted. It was never what I wanted!”

The Emperor was a top the platform now, and Vader itched to rip the illusion apart.

“Was it not?” The Emperor asked coolly. “When you reached your hand out to destroy her, was that not your wish?”

Vader shook his head in denial. It wasn’t true. He hadn’t meant it. Yet, he remembered. He remembered choking her. The feel of her fear, her tears, his own fury, and then nothing. Nothing but pain.

“You chose power then Lord Vader, because it’s your destiny. And to die was hers. Why else would this place call out to you? This is what you are, what you were always meant to be.”

For a moment rage overthrew caution, and he lashed out with a silent roar. Using all the dark energy he had gathered, he pushed the Emperor over the edge of the platform. But when he rushed to follow, the Emperor’s illusion was gone.

As he glared down the stairs, it started to blur and shift, only to vanish.

Vader blinked, finding himself again seated on the vault floor. In front of him, abandoned in the dust stood the silent holocron. Everything was just as it had used to be. Except he could still feel the pull of the altar, tugging at him, somewhere close. And ahead the large shelf just opposite him, had toppled and broken in half, scattering its contents all across the floor. 

* * *

 

For a moment, Vader stared at the empty bed in front of him, a cool sensation travelling down his spine. But there was no body there, alive or dead. Spinning on his heel he marched back into the corridor, summoning Alden on his commlink. Only to receive no reply.

When he was half way to the Captains room, he spotted one of the small surveillance droids, beeping at him, from the doorway to his chamber. His open doorway, he narrowed his eyes, it was never open.

Rushing he entered, finding no signs of her. That he couldn’t even feel her infuriated him. Yet, there was nowhere to hide. His eyes went to his mediation chamber, expect one. With an agitated wave of his hand, the half dome lifted. And there she was, curled up in his chair, head resting on her knees.

The fear he had felt for finding her missing, evaporated in to fury. “What. Are. You doing?”

She startled, lifting her head fear crossed her face. But still, she calmly got to her feet, descending the single step to stand before him, head held high. “Spying,” she replied honestly.

“I see,” he replied, with barely contained rage. “Did you find anything interesting?” He paced in a half circle around her, before coming to a halt in front of her. She swallowed, but didn’t step back.

“And when you found what you were looking for, then what?  You would run off and tell the dissenters. Is that it?”

When she didn’t deny it, he pointed a finger in her face. “You are not going anywhere Padme. You are _mine,”_ he snapped, taking a step closer, “And no matter where you run, I will follow you, and I will find you. Killing anyone that stands in my way, including every single one of your rebel friends.”

Breathing heavily, he paused, waiting for her to say something. That’s when he noticed she was clutching something in her hand, running a shaking finger across slightly faded symbols, over and over again. Something close to pain tightened in his chest. The japor snippet, she still wore it. Had she been wearing it all this time?

“I know you will, “she replied quietly, her lower lip trembling, “But had I actually tried to run, you would no doubt, have found me unconscious in the turbolift,” Abruptly she let go of the necklace, lifting her eyes to his. Eyes that were not dead, not vacant. But full of life, flashing at him in anger and fear.  “You have seen to that. I am not going anywhere.”

Pushing her sleeves back, she lifted her hands towards him, displaying both her stun cuffs, “I am indeed _yours_ my lord. But do not expect me to sit here meekly, as your obedient pet. I would rather you killed me on the spot,” she bit out.

“Oh, have no fear on that score my dear, “he replied with venom, grabbing her arm, he pulled her to him. “It’s not your life, you need to worry about.”

Brown eyes went wide, and she tried to pull from his grasp, but he dragged her towards the hallway, and into her room, before letting go.

“You will grab your cloak, and come with me. Now!” 

Padme quickly did as he commanded, eyeing him from the corner of her eyes, as she did. As if he would pounce on her any moment. Seeing her tense expression, the image of her dead eyes still fresh in his mind’s eye, made him do something, he had not done in a very long while. Taking a deep breath, he let some of his anger go.

When she had donned her cloak, he touched her arm again. By its own accord, it started to massage her gently. “I don’t want a prisoner Padme,”

“Then what do you want? You keep me here, but you barely talk to me. You tell me not to be afraid, but then act like a brute,” she said bitterly, pulling away from him. This time he let her, and turned away from her accusing stare.

“Follow me,” he said stiffly, over his shoulder.

In silence, they walked together, out on to his personal landing platform, to his awaiting speeder. He indicated it with one hand. “Get inside Padme,” he commanded.  

Without protest she got seated next to him, and he closed them in.  As he steered them out into the traffic above Coruscant, she eyed him warily. “Where are, you taking me?”

“You’ll see soon enough,”

Padme turned away from him, to silently look out the window. “Don’t punish the Captain,” she said quietly after a while, resting a hand on its surface. “I drugged him, this was my fault. Not his.”

His hands tightened around the steering, “I guess he should consider himself fortunate for your mercy then, it’s not like you had any for the Imperials you killed, when you blew up one of the Empires largest supply hubs.”

He could see that his words startled her, because she spun her head around to face him, “I had no choice,” she protested.

Watching her from the corner of his eye, he leaned back in his seat, “I agree, I would have done exactly the same in yours shoes. To win, you have to be ruthless Padme. It’s the only way to achieve victory. The Jedi were too foolish to understand this, so they lost.”

“I am nothing like you,” she snapped, turning from him again, and back to her window only to murmur quietly to herself. “I bet you don’t even remember any of the faces, of all the innocent people you have killed.”

At that he said nothing, instead he tilted the speeder, nosediving below the traffic. Then he took a sharp turn, toward a small building at their left.

“I have _not_ missed your flying,” Padme exclaimed grabbing a hold of the door

Pulling up, he slowed down, and landed the speeder on top the off the building. Exiting he went around to her side, offering her his bare hand, he had forgotten his glove again. He seemed to do that a lot lately. Padme didn’t even look at it,  and jumped down in front of him on her own accord.

“So, do you feel victorious then? Is this all you hoped it would be?” she asked, gazing up at him

“Peace always requires a sacrifice,” he replied, ushering her inside. He didn’t like having her out in the open.

“Your idea of peace is not peace at all, its tyranny.”

“If it works.”

Stopping, she spun to face him. “Well it doesn’t. Out there–” With a rapid motion she pointed to the roof, to the sky. “Out there, there are as many refugees now as during the war, if not more. All, running from your precious empire.”

Urging her further inside, he stopped her just outside a closed door. “If they disobey the Empire they deserve their fate,” he replied, indicating the small window set within the frame.  

“Keep telling yourself that,” she murmured. Before getting on her tip toes, hands resting of the window frame, to look into to the room on the other side of the door. He had almost forgotten how short she was.

After a while, she turned to him with a befuddled expression on her face,” It’s a child. Why are you showing me a child?”

Moving to stand right behind her, hemming her in, he looked over her head at the little twi’lek hybrid. Under the supervision of a droid, she was happily playing with a set of blocks.

“You think I offer you imprisonment– “he pointed at the little girl. Still playing, ignorant of her predicament. Though he had always intended to use her as a tool to assure loyalty, this wasn’t quite what he had intended, “Cruelty.”

Padme turned around, her back against wall she was trapped between him and the door, but she didn’t seem frightened anymore. He stroked his bare thumb, across her lower lip. It was not stone, not dead, but warm, alive. She bit her lip, but did not shy away.

“But what I offer you Padme is power. Her fate, and the fate of her father is now in your hands.”

Padme’s brows pulled together, and she looked up at him in confusion. “I am not sure I understand,”

Leaning forward slightly, he put his hands on the door just above her shoulders, but didn’t touch her this time. “Don’t you? When he is gone. You and I, and our son, will have the power to do as we wish. No one will be able to stop us,” His power stirred within his chest, promising him everything. Like he would promise her everything. If she would only take it.

“You can do as you want, help others if that is what you wish, I will not interfere.”

“Yes, you would. Your voice would be law, I would only be an ornament. One step you didn’t approve of, would surely end in punishment. “Quickly she ducked beneath his arm, escaping his imprisonment. “And I told you once before, I won’t follow you down this path. I don’t want that kind of power. I never did.”

He felt his temper return, and gnawed on his teeth. “You prefer war then, you prefer chaos?”

“I prefer choice Anakin,” she replied, eyeing him as if he was a stranger. But he was _her_ husband.

“People have the right to choose their own fate. Not to be forced to kneel at the feet of a tyrant,” she added.

Muscles tense, he folded his arms across his chest, not trusting himself to get to close. “I believe what I just offered you was a choice,” he bit out, “But if you won’t join me willingly, our son will.”

Padme visibly paled, making her gaunt face look even more so. He ignored the small twitch in his gut, as she shook her head, stepping back, “No,”

Slowly he turned from her, to stare at the child again. She was laughing to herself as her tiny tower of blocks, fell apart. He tightened his fist. Soon, very soon he would have what was rightfully his. He had preferred Padme willing, but if not, so be it. “You say, you prefer choice. Well, here is another one for you then,”

When she made no comment, he continued. “Tell me where my son is, or Captain Alden and his little girl, will both pay as a consequence of your actions.”

He heard Padme’s sharp intake of breath, before her soft accusatory voice reached him. “When did you become this cruel?”

The words bounced of his armour, and he brushed them off.  Glancing back over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of her stricken face. “Just tell me where our child is, and I will give Alden his, and spare his life.”

She moved in a flash, small hands desperately tugging at the door, but it was locked. Then she hit the door hard with her palm. Vader could see the little girl startle at the sound, looking up at him with wide eyes. He stepped back, bumping into Padme, but she moved away,  shunning him like he was plagued.

“Please tell me, you didn’t steal this child simply to blackmail me?”

He shrugged, “It was not my original intention, but I am always willing to adapt. Just answer me Padme.”

She bowed her head, staring at her feet. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t.”

He knew no such thing, Luke was as much _his,_ as hers. “Very well. But you would do well to remember, that every action has a consequence, “he said flatly, then he turned from her, and walked away. Quietly he heard her follow him, but she said nothing on the trip back. And he was glad of it, his blood still boiling from her rejection.

Back at the tower, Padme started to stride away from him, heading towards her quarters, but he halted her by the door to Alden’s small room. One he had granted him, so Padme would not be alone when he left every night.

One hand on her arm, he glanced down at her, “This is your last chance Padme.”

She had grabbed the japor snippet again, and was clasping it to her heart. But that tactic, wouldn’t work. That _boy,_ was gone.

“That, is a choice I cannot make. I will not make,” she said, her hand going limp, she dropped the necklace. His eyes followed it, as it swung on its chain, before finally coming to a rest, against the fabric of her shirt.

He ripped his gaze away. “Very well, “he replied. Letting her go, he opened the door. Quickly spotting the sleeping shadow, resting on the single bunk. Alden wasn’t even awake yet it seemed. Anger seared through Vader, he abhorred incompetence.

“Please…” From the corner of his eye he could see Padme moving towards him, but he held his arm up forestalling her. “You have made your choice. It seems you are ruthless after all, “

Padme visibly paled, halting her approach. He knew he was hurting her, but this was her choice. He would keep his word if she only complied, he would give her everything if she did. Why couldn’t she see that?

“Captain Alden,” he said coolly. On the bed the shadow moved, and a tired Alden appeared in the door way, pressing a hand to his mouth, yawning. But when he realized who was standing in his doorway, his eyes went wide and he stammered.  “My lord,”

Vader could see the moment Alden spotted Padme, the fatigue leaching from his face, but it was too late.

Lifting his hand as if in defense, Alden took a step back, but it would do him little good. “I...”

Vader did not bother to respond. Instead he lifted his hand, and as if he weighed nothing Alden flew backwards hitting the wall in the corridor behind him, hard enough for his breath to be knocked out of him, his head sagging forward. Twisting his hand, Vader lifted him high enough so his bobbing head hit the ceiling hard. Then he swung around, tilting his helmet upwards so he could look at Alden terror struck face. A streak of blood had started to run down Alden’s temple, dripping to the ground by his feet. “It seems your usefulness has come to an end, Captain.”

Alden grunted, holding out a hand in a silent plea. But no one here would hear his prayers. And it was not like Vader had even been unreasonable. Anything but in fact. He tightened his hand into a fist, constricting the man’s windpipe.

Someone assaulted him, fingers trying desperately to dig into his arm. But he felt nothing but rage. “You can’t do this!” Padme shouted somewhere above the humming in his blood. With effort, he had to suppress the instinct to push her away, to punish her for her insolence. Her lying mouth. Her rejection.

“Can’t I?” he asked harshly, when he had composed himself enough. “I told you, there would be consequences. But say the word,” he dropped Alden a fraction down the wall. “And I will release him. The choice is yours.”

Padme stared at him. The horror in her eyes, searing through him, then she let go of his arm as if disgusted. “I can’t,” she whispered. He said nothing, she was looking at him like this was his fault. But it wasn’t. This was hers. She had done this.  Disappointed she stepped back, before walking over to stand below Alden.

“Your killing him,” she stated matter of factly. By now the Captain was gasping for air, but still Vader did not relent.

Padme’s slender shoulders slumped forward, and she started to shake her head back and forth. “I am so sorry. I am so very sorry.”

That’s right, she should apologize, but not to Alden, to _him._ Slowly she turned around to face him, her deep brown eyes filling with tears. It only aggravated his anger. “Don’t try to manipulate me,” he hissed at her. He would not allow her to weaken him this time.

She said nothing, but instead stared down at her feet, she was standing in the splatter of Alden’s blood.

“And stop crying for _him,”_ he added, lifting his fist toward the man still hovering by the ceiling. By now Alden’s feet had started to kick at the air, the very last desperate act of a dying man.

Padme quickly wiped her tears away with her sleeve “I am not crying for him, “she said weakly, before lifting her head, looking right through him. “I am crying for you.”

Anger warred with pain inside his chest. Tears, what use had he of tears? When had they ever helped with anything. Never, that was when.

Yet, her words confused him, and he hesitated.

Padme pressed on. “Luke will not be safe in this place. You know he won’t. Please don’t ask me to make this choice.”

“Do not question my ability to protect my own child,” he spat, feeling his anger return. Relishing in the certainty it brought him, he tightened his grip on Alden’s throat again. There was only one prize for failure. “Do not question _me.”_

Her shoulders sagged. “What good with that do me. You would only refuse to listen, you were always stubborn, “she said bitterly.

Then to his utter surprise she sank down on both knees in front of him, not seemingly caring she was sitting in blood. But unlike her stone counterpart, she was not broken.

_Not yet_

Instead she looked so reminiscent, of the brave young queen she had been all those years ago, when she had pleaded for her people. He had fallen more in love with her, with that act. Even though he had been just a child, and hadn’t known then, that love was cruel.

“I am not trying to manipulate you my lord,” she said, bowing her head, one hand twisting nervously around her bandaged arm, but her voice came out steady and true. When she lifted her head again, her blank eyes bore into him. “But I am not beyond begging. Please don’t kill another person because of me. I beg of you. I cannot bear it. Not again.”

“Perhaps, you should have thought of that earlier,” he replied coolly, but involuntary his hand relaxed ever so slightly, and he could hear Alden draw in a single ragged breath.

“Tell me what I want to know, and he lives. It’s that simple Padme.”

“No, it isn’t, and you know it. That is the one thing, I will never do. I can’t,” she said, her voice fading into a silent whisper. Yet somehow, she managed to look more, not less, even in her submissive posture. The sight irked him, this wasn’t what he wanted.

“At least you seem to have loyalty, to one person you claim to love,” he said bitterly, feeling an odd sense of jealousy twisting his gut.  It seemed his son had, what he had always wanted.

Padme pressed a hand to her throat, “Don’t talk to me about loyalty Anakin. Don’t you dare,” she threw her head back, and glared up at him. “I never betrayed you. Never. And I am not convinced, you actually still believe that I ever did.  Or it’s just what you tell yourself, to justify what you did to me. To our child–” Padme bit her lip hard, and he could see her hand was shaking. But her flashing eyes told him it was not with fear, but with a fury as bright as his own.

Because there they were. Those words, the accusation. It occurred to him then, he had been waiting for them all along. From the very first moment, he had seen her beautiful face, alive and well, and realized his entire life was built on a lie. One, he had only believed, because of the partial truth to it. Because of what he had done. Shame engulfed him, and he looked away from Padme’s tear stricken face, to the man whose life he held in his hands. Finding he just didn’t care, it wasn’t in him to care anymore. Not for anyone. Not for anyone, but her.   

As if drawn by a string, he swung his head back around to face her. “Get up,” he commanded, and she did. Yet, it seemed her anger had gone, because she reached out, and gently touched his still tightened fist. “Let him go.”

She had to use those exact words didn’t she. Manipulation or not, he faltered, and this time he was the one that obeyed. With a flick of his wrist he threw Alden, down the corridor, not caring where he landed. There was a thud, then silence.

Padme winced at the sound, but instead of shrinking away, she lifted her hands towards his mask, leaning her palms on the metal.

“Look at me Anakin.” She tilted his head down, so he was looking directly at her. “You look at me, and you listen. Do you hear me?”

Numb, he let her pull at him. Even through the barrier of his mask, her touch dulled some of his anger. But without it he felt empty, just as broken as his flesh. Padme spoke again, and he blinked down at her.

“I didn’t know Obi Wan was aboard my ship, I swear it.  I only came there, to that horrible place, to save my husband.” Her voice broke, but her trembling hands refused to let go of him. “I only came to save you.”

His body tensed, and he wanted nothing more than to pull away from her burning touch. This was wrong, because it was truth, he knew it was truth. Yet, if it was truth, he was guilty. He was wrong. His mouth started to shape words, that escaped his lips before he could stop them. “No one can save me.”

Padme pulled his head further down, with a surprisingly firm grip. So, his mask ended up resting against her forehead. She closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath, and spoke softly. “You can.”

For a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut, and leaned into her, breathing heavily. This was too much, this hurt.

This was _weakness_. He wrenched away from her, taking a step back. Away from her poisonous sweet words, her well-crafted lures, and glared down at her. “No.”

Padme dropped her hands in defeat, her eyes a bottomless pit of sadness. He pretended not to see it, instead he drew on the dark current, pulling his anger around himself. Perhaps, she had not betrayed him then, but she was a liar nonetheless. 

“They all lied to me. You, the Jedi, Palpatine, everyone!” he sneered, baring his teeth. It was the same, it was always the same. Liar’s all of them. Traitors. “You made me believe I killed you, that I killed our child. And you call me cruel.”

“Anakin,” Padme reached for him again, instinctively he lifted his hand up. She shrank back, hurt and terror reflected in her eyes. There it was again.  Fear.

Abruptly he dropped his hand, forcing it to relax by his side. “Just tell me this my love,” he said hoarsely, his throat suddenly dry, “Which liar should I trust?”

Padme’s expression softened, the fear gone like it had never been. “I wish I could tell you what it is that you want to hear Anakin,” she said gently. “That there is certainty. But there is none. People are messy, they make mistakes, because they are human. And sometimes they lie to deceive, other times because they wish to protect.”

She took a small step closer, “And sometimes simply because they are afraid. You just have to have faith, and trust in this. That the people that truly love you, love you, despite off their own mistakes.”

Her hand touched his arm,” And they love you, despite of your own,”

He sucked in a breath, and looked at her, searching her eyes for any hint of deceit, and found none. “You may have the Captains life Padme,” he said finally, “But if he fails me again, not even you will be able to save him.”

She let out a sigh of relief, but before she could say anything more, he pulled away, heading for his quarters, and his mediation chamber. Though he knew it would never be the same again, now he would see her within it always. But not as a memory from the past, but as living breathing being. So, very unlike him.

He stopped in the door, and turned back to her. “And you are right. I don’t remember any of the faces, of the people I have killed,” he hesitated, and pressed the door release. Before it shut he spoke again, “I remember only one, only yours.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew that was a long one, It gave me a literal head ache. Their relationship is so not healthy at this point. And Vader (or Vaderkin at this point," Is such an onion, (an evil one) with so many layers it hurts my head to write, hehe


	21. Chapter 21

Padme knocked on the door to Vader’s quarters, counting her own heartbeats, while waiting for him to appear. When nothing happened, she lifted her hand to knock again. Just as she did, the door slid open in front of her, revealing an empty doorway.

Cautiously she peeked inside. The very last thing she wanted, was to be caught snooping again. She didn’t think her heart could take another one of his outbursts. His last one had left her shaking, in fact some parts of her were still shaking. Yet, he was the one that had opened the door, wasn’t he? He must have.

Making her mind up, she stepped over the threshold. This time, the black half dome of his meditation chamber was already raised, but the seat was vacant. He wasn’t there.

She paused, before starting to take a step backwards. But the sound of her name, stopped her foot mid-air.  It was spoken quietly in his dark voice, yet still softly, like a caress. A caress she should not want. Even so, her treacherous legs turned by their own accord, following the dark summons willingly. Walking past the dome, the voice led her to a smaller chamber adjacent to the main room. That’s where she found him. A solitary figure by the window, standing hands clasped behind his back.

“Padme,” he repeated.

Still, facing away from her, it was the only acknowledgement he gave her. The only hint that he even knew she was there.

He was still large, still unfathomable. Yet somehow, she knew he was tired. That he was weary. Her legs moved again, this time towards the window, where they finally stopped, just beside him. Leaving them side by side, in the soft light of the late afternoon sun, staring across the busy cityscape together.

It was always busy on Coruscant. Yet, despite its multitude of people, in some ways it was a dead place.  It had no forests, no trees, no wildlife. Nothing to remind her, that it was indeed a real planet. Not just a giant space ship, floating aimlessly through space. Except when she looked up to the sky. That’s when Coruscant truly shone, its sunsets vivid and alive. It was one of the very few things, she had loved about the city planet.

Often, she had found Anakin on her balcony, gazing up at this very sky. Or more often than that, at the stars. Haunted even then by his nightmares, long before the vision that finally broke him. In some ways, the power he had, had never left him alone. It had never let him be truly free.  She shifted her eyes away from the view, up to his mask. In the gentle light, she could almost convince herself, that the harsh edges of the mask were softer, less cruel.   “Do you ever sleep?” she asked.

When he said nothing, she thought he would choose not to answer. But to her surprise, after a lengthy pause he spoke.

“When I need to.”

Then he straightened, as if to shake the weariness off, before he finally turned to face her.  Any trace of vulnerability gone. She briefly wondered if she had imagined it.

“What is it Padme? Do you require anything?”

She stared up into his dark eye sockets. They didn’t reflect the light, instead they seemed to devour it. Like he would devour her, if she wasn’t careful. Although he seemed calm for the moment, she knew all too well how he volatile he was. How he could hug her in one moment, the turn on her in the next.

“There is something I wanted to ask you,” she started, still eyeing him warily.

He cocked his head, “Go ahead.”

Briefly she hesitated. Although he had been amicable these last few day, she had no idea how far she could take it. Or how far she even should. But there was only one way to find out, so she pressed on. “It’s about the little girl. I would like you to bring her here.” 

Gloved hands moved to his hip. “Why? If you are worried for her safety, I assure you she is fine,” he said dryly, as if her words had been an accusation.

She shook her head. “It’s not that. She is a child, she needs more than just a droid to care for her.”

“It’s sufficient.”

“No, it isn’t,” she interjected, talking a step closer. “She just a little girl. She needs a human connection. She needs her–” she stopped herself before finishing the sentence, knowing the word father was likely to aggravate him. “We all need more than that Anakin,” she finished instead. Her plea didn’t seem to have its desired effect, because when he spoke, his voice was cold, firm.

“Thanks to _your_ own efforts Padme, Captain Alden now knows who you are. The child will keep him from talking. She stays where she is. Is that, or he dies.”

She didn’t let it deter her, it was just what she had expected he would say, “At least let her see him? Just for a little while.”

When he moved closer, his cape brushed up against her arm, making her skin prickle.

“Now, that would be nice would it not. For a father to be allowed to see his own _child_.”

This close, she had to crane her neck to be able to look at him. “I have said what I will say on that subject. I am not the one keeping Luke from you, you are.  If you want to see him, show me I can trust you.”

He said nothing at that, not that she had expected him to. Bit by bit, she was starting to understand just how wounded he was, broken in so much more then flesh. He had no trust, not in anyone. Unbidden Leia’s name came to her lips, just as it had so many times lately. She wanted so badly to share her joy with him, to be able to trust him. To tell him he had been right, that it was a girl. To tell him that they both had been. And maybe, just maybe, by giving him her trust, she would gain his.  But it was too risky, she couldn’t bring herself to speak the words. Instead she bit them back, swallowing them down, to a safe place in her heart. Where she would keep them, hidden. At least for now.

She almost shook her head. Perhaps she was losing her mind. Or love truly was a form of insanity. At least theirs was. Because the more he tried to convince her, he was beyond hope. The more she was starting to believe he wasn’t. It was irrational, it was foolish. But unknowingly and indeed very unwillingly, he had rekindled that defiant spark of hope inside her. The one that much to her own surprise, simply refused to die. “Anakin,” she said carefully, grabbing his arm. Knowing full well she had to thread carefully, even now. “What do you intend to do? Why am I here, in this place?”

The mask moved closer, so close he could rest it atop her head if he wished. But it hovered just above, his breath drowning out the sound of her ever increasing heartbeat.

“What do I intended to do with you?” he said huskily.

The dark baritone of his voice tickled down her neck. Reminding her of how much she missed his real voice, she desperately wanted to hear it again. More than anything she wanted to hear him laugh. Warm and carefree, like he had used to.

But somehow in this very moment, this dark timbre was enough. Her hand tightened reflexively around his arm, as if to hold on against an oncoming storm. One that could blow her over at any moment. Scatter what was left of her to the wind. The pieces so far apart, she would never be able to reassemble herself. But then again, he had always been a hurricane. Yes, love was indeed insanity. What else could it be.

The gloved hand of his free arm, smoothed down her loose braid, before he gently tucked an escaped curl behind her ear. She had to stop herself from leaning into his touch. That was a dangerous place to go. Too dangerous.

“That’s a strange question. I am pretty sure you are my wife after all,” he murmured, giving the braid one last tug. “You cut your hair.”

Briefly she swayed against him, before she managed to shake off her daze. With one hand, she snatched her hair back. She would not allow him to distract or derail her. He might be a hurricane, but she was no trembling leaf.  “Stop toying with me. Please just answer the question.”

He straightened. “Very well then. It’s Empire Day soon. We must remain here until then. After that I will take you some place safe.”

Her face fell. Empire Day. She remembered the very first one, she would always remember it. It was imprinted on her soul, like a large black stain. Two days before the birth of the twins. Two days before her world had crashed and burned, and her husband with it. Vader saw her sadness, he must have, because the voice softened.

“I know you hate this place Padme.”

Her old bitterness resurfaced. “So, do you!” she retorted, unable to hold back her glare. She had been alone. Alone through all of it. Alone when she had needed him the most. Alone through the pain, through the heartbreak. And now she was alone once more, separated from her heart. Two tiny vibrant pieces of her heart, with arms and legs of their own. Out there somewhere in the galaxy without her. Tears pricked against her eyes, both from sadness, and fury. Fury at him for their separation. It was his fault.

“Don’t,” he said darkly.

She knew her tears made him tetchy, which made her _annoyed_. “Don’t tell me not to cry Anakin. You don’t have the monopoly on my tears!” she bit out. Still, she pressed them back. But not for his sake. She would see her babies again, that she swore. But tears would not help her get there.

Several silent heartbeats passed, before he spoke again. “Perhaps I can be persuaded to help ease your guilty conscience about the Captain,” he said, wisely or cowardly, changing the subject.

Before she had a chance to protest, that it was in fact _he_ that had a reason to feel guilty, she had not been the one to assault Alden. He put a finger to her lip, silencing her.

“But only if you agree to something in return.” 

Annoyed she pushed his hand away, she should have known. “Must every interaction between us be a bargain? Can’t it simply be a kindness?”

He put his hands on his belt. “Isn’t every relationship a bargain in the end?”

Bitterness faded to sadness. How had this happened? How had her lovely Anakin become this cynical cruel man? He with such a capacity for love reduced to _this._ She placed a hand on his mask, just as she would have his cheek. “Was that what we were to you? A bargain? An agreement for services rendered?”

They stood there looking at each other, the silence stretched thin between them. He drew in a breath, then another.

“No, “he admitted, “But still, those are my terms.”

She sighed, dropping her hand, “So be it then, enough with the suspense. Tell me, what do you want in return? And don’t say Luke, because that’s not happening. Not like this.”

“You have made that very clear. But no, it’s not that.” Reaching out he cupped her face, lifting it as if to study her.  “I only wish to know something,” he murmured, as much to himself as to her.

“What do you want to know?”

His hands dropped away from her face. “There is no time now. I will send for you later.”

She hesitated, having no idea what he wanted. But what did it matter, he didn’t need to ask her permission. He could take anything he wished, except her will. That was her own. _But he had asked, hadn’t he?_ She gave him a reluctant nod. “All right. I’ll come.”

“Good. I will bring you the girl. For a visit, only.”

Even though she was still uneasy, she smiled up at him, that was more than she had hoped for. Somewhere in that dark heart of his, he had heard her. Now she only had to make him listen.

“Thank you,” she said, touching his chest. If she had to, she would make herself into a battering ram. Hammering gently and steadily until she won, or died from the effort. In the end, not even his armour would stop her. Nor would her own fear, she would not allow it. There was too much at stake.

He inclined his head, and she took it as a dismissal. The time to leave before it ended badly.

But when she turned to leave, his hand shoot out and captured her wrist, pulling her back towards him. For a moment, she startled, her heart jumping into her throat. Eyeing his hand on her arm with horror.

It was only when she was breathing again, she realized his tug was gentle, more like a question than a demand. And for that reason alone, she followed as he pulled her close. So, close that she vanished within the depth of his cape, the panel on his belt digging into her chest. Yet somehow, she didn’t mind. And when she rested her head against his chest, it was her own choice. An insane one, but hers nonetheless.

Closing her eyes, she would permit herself to stay her, just for a little while. She heard him let out a tired sigh, reverberating all through him, and heard herself sigh in response. She missed him, she missed him so much.

“Padme, don’t be frightened,” he said, somewhere far above her head, sounding genuinely gentle this time. This was honesty, not derailment, not deflection. He kept a hold of her hand, pressing it towards his chest.

“How can I not? “she whispered, into his armour. At that instant, she hated it more than she ever had. Hated it, for keeping him from her. Though she knew, the armour was not the true barrier between them. It was just the most visible one. “You frighten me. In so many ways.”

His free hand came to lay lightly on her back, as if he was afraid she would break if he pushed too hard. It was to gentle to be called a hug. Not like how Anakin had hugged. He had engulfed her with his arms, and she him. To her, his arms had been the safest place in the galaxy. To her, it had been home. Until it wasn’t. Not anymore.

“I don’t mean to, I never meant to.”

Her fingers played with the fabric of his tunic. “But that’s not what really matters is it?” she said bitterly, feeling the ghostly memory of his choke around her throat. The fact that he had done it, hurt so much more than the act ever could. Yet, it was selfish to be so concerned with what he had done to her, when he had hurt so many, so much worse. And them, he had not let go. For them he had no mercy. Reluctantly she pulled back, she had to, or she might end up staying there forever. And she couldn’t, she shouldn’t.  “In the end, it’s what we do that defines us, not what we mean to do.”

The respirator hitched.” I know.” He bent his head, then he let her go.

Taking the opportunity, she escaped. But not from fear of him, but for fear of herself. Of her around him. He had always been magnetic to her, and it shocked her to find out he still was. Yet when she reached the doorway she hesitated, turning back to look at him.  

The colours in the window had grown sharper, contrasting him in a dark silhouette against the backdrop. A lonely figure, a lonely man.

“I miss you. I miss you so much,” she said, only realising she had spoken out loud when he answered, taking a step towards her.

“I am right here Padme.”

She looked at the mask, at the armour. She looked until her eyes hurt from the strain, trying to peel the armour off with her eyes, wishing for the power too wrench her husband out from his shell. As if her thoughts were enough to free him. “I know you are Anakin. You are the one, that doesn’t believe it.”

He turned back to the window, this time it was clear, she was being dismissed. She left, knowing better than to corner him now. That would do more harm than good. Yet when she walked, she couldn’t help the small smile on her lips.  It hadn’t been much, but it had been more than she had ever dared hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super busy at the moment, and have no time to write. There was suppose to be a bit more plot in the next chapter, but that takes longer to write than just emotions. I am working on it, when I can. But here is something a little more sweet while you wait:)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately I am working on a project that devours all my time. So sorry for the delay. Good news is that the next chapter is almost done, so short waiting time for next update. 
> 
> And I apologize in advance for the cheese in the beginning:) I wanted to write something not angsty for once. And Anakin and Padme's innocence is part of the basis of my story. (especially Anakin's)

Padme’s hands dug into hair. Kissing him hard, she pulled him closer to her, pressing his weight down against hers. He shifted, afraid he might crush her, but her grip just tightened around him. Slowly her hands started to travel a path down his spine. When they reached his trousers, to tug gently at the waistband, he finally broke away. Sitting up, he put some well needed distance between them. He had to do this, it was now or never. But he couldn’t, if she kept distracting him with her touch.

“Wait,” he said, when he could finally hear himself over the erratic beat of his own heart.

Padme was still lying on the bed. At his words, she blinked up at him in confusion, her pupils so large her eyes appeared black in the dim light of the bedroom. After removing her veil, her curly hair had gotten all tousled across the pillow, her wedding dress pulled slightly up over her legs. Propping herself up onto her elbows, she smiled lazily up at him. “What is it Ani?”

Involuntarily his new prosthetic hand clenched around the covers, he hadn’t gotten used to it yet. Sometimes he wondered if he ever would. Although it was supposed to obey his commands, like his real arm would have, it still felt so foreign, like it wasn’t a part of him. The constant reminder angered him. He would not be beaten like that again. Not ever.

“Anakin? Is something wrong?”

Her voice was soft now, worried. Its gentle call snapped him out of it, like a cold balm, soothing a burning ache. The mechanical hand went limp on the mattress, gold against white. And he couldn’t remember what had angered him so in the first place. He looked at her, this wasn’t why he had stopped.

“I…um... No, not wrong exactly,” he said hesitating, all the while feeling his cheeks heat. It was hard to find the right words. This had all happened so fast. Perhaps too fast, if he was honest.  But they had so little time, and soon he would have to leave again. At that thought, he almost reached for her again. What he should do, was just shut up, and enjoy the time they were given. As little as it may be.

Padme crawled over to sit next to him on the bed, grabbing his prosthetic hand she cradled in in hers.  Just like she had done the first time she had seen it.  He had been ashamed then, but she had just pressed it against her cheek. What mattered was that he was alive, she had said. Everything else they could face, together.

Now, he felt her hand tighten around his, “Tell me Anakin.”

He lets his metal fingers gently play with hers. They were there, he could feel them. But it was a cold touch, more like a memory of touch. There was no warmth to it.  “I am a Jedi,” he began.

“I know,” she said softly. And he noticed the small flicker of hesitation cross her face. She still felt guilty, he knew that. But how could this be wrong?  How could love, possibly be wrong? That part of the Jedi way, made no sense to him, it never had.

He kept his eyes fixed on their clasped hands, so she wouldn’t see his embarrassment, “And well, you know we are not supposed to form attachments,” he said slowly.

“I do.”

Right now, all he wanted to bury his head underneath a pillow, but he forced himself to keep going. “Although we are not required to be celibate, getting to close to someone is discouraged.” He groaned, and the pillow flew through the air, landing by his thigh. He was wrong, he couldn’t do this. But Padme snatched it before he had a chance to.

“And?” she prompted.

“I haven’t done this much,” he admitted. Feeling his ears burn, he blabbered on before she had a chance to say something else. If she did, he would never be able to speak again, he was sure of it. “I am sorry I didn’t say anything earlier, I just– “

Padme grabbed his cheek, forcing him to look at her. Her dark eyes warm, “Sorry, why would you be sorry?”

He bit his lip, “Perhaps you want someone more experienced. That’s all.”

Leaning closer, she kissed him, softly this time. The urgency from before gone, yet the warmth from of her, was still intoxicating.  “Oh, Ani. I want you, just you.”

He felt his body relax, like a heavy weight had been lifted of his shoulders. It was strange, he hadn’t even realised he had been this tense.

Her hand reached up to gently massage his shoulder, its touch making all his aches fade away. Even dimming the empty burning pain inside him, where his mother should have been. Yet not even her touch could remove the guilt. He doubted anything ever could.

“What did you think I would say.  Change my mind, and run after the holy man? After all he couldn’t have gotten far,” she said, shaking her head slightly in dismay, “I am not going anywhere Anakin, we are in this together now. For good or bad. Isn’t that what a marriage means?”

“I suppose,” he replied, with a sigh, “It’s not that I doubt you Padme. It’s just that all this is so new to me.”

“Well, I bet you were not good with your lighsaber the first time you used it either,” she stated.

He chuckled, arching an eyebrow at her. “A lightsaber. Really?” he teased. “Was that the best analogy you could come up with?” he shook his head, in mock disapproval, but was unable to keep the smile from his face, “I am very disappointed in you, _senator_.”

She blushed, hiding behind the pillow she was still holding. “That was pretty bad, wasn’t it? You wouldn’t think I have been a politician for most of my life. I am supposed to be good with words,” she laughed softly, peaking over the pillow, looking at him so lovingly he was still surprised by it. That someone like her could want him. Him!

“But I made you laugh, so it was worth the embarrassment.”

Squaring her shoulders, she threw the pillow away, leaving behind just them, with nowhere left to hide. Yet, he no longer felt awkward, he half wondered if she had done it on purpose, easing his embarrassment by offering up her own, but he said nothing of it. Instead he stroked her cheek with his left hand. Her skin was soft, warm. Real.  This was touch as it should be. The other paled in comparison.

“You are adorable, do you know that?” he said earnestly, cupping her cheek. He loved seeing her like this, not serious, or constantly worried. Just smiling and relaxed. Like very few ever saw her. He felt like he had been let in on a precious secret. This before him, was the woman, not the politician, or a young queen. And she was all his. Just his. He would give anything to keep her like this, forever.

“And I didn’t mean I am quite _that_ innocent, “he added hurriedly. Just in case she got the wrong idea.

She leaned into his touch, chewing on her bottom lip, “It wouldn’t have mattered either way. And I am nervous too, you know. “

“You? You are the bravest person I know.”

“Yes me,” she grinned at him, before straddling his lap, a determined, but playful look on her beautiful face, “Everyone gets nervous. And when I am nervous, I face things head on. It’s the only cure.”

Putting his arms around her, he smiled. “Is it now?”

“Yes,” she said, pushing him gently on the chest. Relenting he lay down on his back, carrying her with him. Before he knew what had happed, one of her hands had found its way beneath his tunic, stroking across his skin. Involuntarily he twitched.

“Your ticklish,” she said gleefully. Apparently satisfied with her discovery, her hand slid further up his stomach, causing him to twitch again.  

“Maybe,” he admitted with a laugh, trying to fend her off. When she did it deliberately once more, he grabbed her hands, stopping her. “Be nice you.”

She smiled slyly down at him, “Of course, Anakin. I am always nice.”

He eyed her dubiously. But loosened his grip, as she leaned closer, kissing him deeply. It took him a moment to realise, that her hands were trying make their way back beneath his tunic.

“Sneak,” he laughed, grabbing them again. With a twist of his hip, he spun them around, pinning her gently to the bed, trapping her body with his. “Now, do you yield?”

“Me?” she asked all innocence, her dark eyes sparkling up at him, he could watch them forever. Sometimes he felt like in their depths, he found the only thing in the galaxy that made any sense. Only in her eyes, did he find the quiet. Only here with her, could he rest.

Twisting her hands, she entangled her fingers with his, “You should know better than that by now, Jedi Knight Skywalker,” her voice dropped to a whisper, as her grin widened, “I yield to no one.”

He laughed again. Leaning down, he kissed her gently below her ear, “We will see about that, now wont we?”

To him, her responding chuckle, was the most precious sound in the galaxy.

* * *

 

Vader awoke with a start, the hand on the armrest of his chair, clutching hard enough to break the bones in his flesh hand if he wasn’t careful. He exhaled, leaning forward, he put his head in his hands. He could still feel the ghost of her touch on his skin, like it had been yesterday. Still hear her laughter, ringing in his ears. He rubbed his head, it was getting worse. Every time he looked at her, every time he touched her, all those other memories of the past came rushing back. And it made him closer to the _other_ than he wished. Yet, all he wanted to do, was to touch her again. It was like a plague, or a disease. She was everywhere.

Of course, he remembered her, he always had. But every memory, every touch, had been overshadowed by the very last one. Her lying there, broken by his own hand. A moment frozen in time, forever entrenched in his memory.

His hands dug into his skull, into his scar.  It always came back to that last moment, like all the other memories he had of her, had somehow ceased to exist. And through that memory, his rage at her loss had burned bright enough to make him unstoppable. It had been his strength, the hatred that drove him.

But now it was fading, this last memory. Slowly being replaced by her. Just her.

He lifted his head. Pushing a few buttons on the panel ahead of him, a pulsing signal appeared on the small screen. She was in her room, sleeping perhaps. Her vital signs strong. Alive. Still she didn’t understand, why he had to do this. She had only ever seen Palpatine as a politician, as an advisor, later as an adversary. But never as sith, she had never truly seen his might. If he faltered now, he would sentence them both to their deaths.

Closing his eyes, he pulled inward down into himself, to draw on the fire of his fury, to strengthen himself with his rage. That he was _this,_ was how it was always supposed to be. It was the will of the force. It was what was needed. _He_ did what was needed.

Yet what had once been so easy, now evaded him. Annoyed he dug as deep as he could, but instead of the dark current he had expected, something else rose to meet him. It felt cold and clammy. Uncomfortable, like a glove that didn’t quite fit. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes flew open. Something was wrong with him. He could _feel_ it. The clammy feeling intensified. The little pulse on the screen indicated the rhythmic beat of her heart.  Mesmerised he watched the steady pulse, until he caught his reflection on the screen, next to it. Pale and dead looking.

He met his own eyes in the reflection.

_I miss you too Padme. Always._

The words echoed inside his head, making it throb. He waved his hand, needing to escape the confines of the meditation chamber. This was supposed to be his sanctuary, but now it only felt like another reminder of her.

The concentrated air escaped the chamber. But he didn’t lower down his helmet. Letting his broken flesh remind him of his anger instead. Let the one that had inflicted it, be the source of his hatred. That, and the hatred he felt for the Emperor.

At the thought of his master, the darkness grew, filling his veins with its power. He hated them both, current master, and former master alike, and in the end, he would see them both dead. Unable to stop it he wheezed. Like this, he had no hope of victory. Still, running was not an option, he ran from no one. 

_You can’t run, and you know it. There is nowhere to hide, not for you._

Not bothering to deny the words, he shook his head hard. It burned, his lungs screaming for air, but still he held on. Yet, in the end, he was forced to concede defeat, and lowered the helmet, sealing him in, with a hiss. The only good thing it left him with was his rage, strengthening his connection to the force. To who he really was.  He needed it now, more than ever. The dark tide of the force was shifting all around him, and he knew he was running out of time.

He rose. Flinging his cape across his shoulders, he strode to the door, crossing to the end of the corridor in the direction of the landing platform. Refusing to even glance at her door as he went past.

* * *

 

It was an odd sound that lured Padme into the hallway.  A sound so alien to this place, she was certain it had never been uttered here before. And maybe it still hadn’t. Perhaps it was all in her head, her mind playing a cruel trick on her, taunting her with the deepest longings of her heart.

But then the sound came again, just as she spotted Vader moving hurriedly towards her. And this time, there was no mistaking the delighted chuckle. As he moved closer Padme spotted its source. Laughing to herself, a little girl was trying to claw at Vader’s helmet, while he was holding her away from himself, as far as he possible could.

Padme felt her lips twitch in the beginnings of a smile, but it froze halfway, before fading completely as it hit her. A memory. It was a memory of words only. Cold and icy words. Unimaginable words she would remember to the end of her days. Obi Wan’s words, spoken quietly, yet hitting deeply, like a death blow, marking the end to everything she had ever known. In denial, she had tried to ignore them at first. It had only been words after all, and words in themselves were not proof. Surely it had all been a lie? Some terrible misunderstanding? She had chosen to cling to her own lie then. Obi Wan must have been wrong, Anakin would never do that. Not _that._

Bile rose in her throat, and she looked away from Vader’s dark mask, as her hopeful soaring heart came crashing back down to the ground with a painful thud. In the end, there had only been one lie that day, the one she had told herself. Steeling herself, she pushed the words away. She wouldn’t think of _that._ It was a place she just couldn’t go. Not now. She lifted her head, the only thing left for her to do, was to focus on those yet living.

He came to a halt just in front of her, his cloak billowing out behind him. “Here,” he grumbled, unceremoniously depositing the child on the floor. Unprepared the little girl swayed on her feet, before grabbing on to Vader’s boot for balance. She was small, and so very young. To innocent to know, who see had picked as an unwilling playmate. Padme dug her fingers into her palm, to prevent herself from plucking the child away, and hide her behind her back. Although she doubted it would do much good.

He made no move to stop the child or push her away.

“I have kept my end of the bargain. I expect you to keep yours,” he said darkly, clearly not in the mood for conversation.

She was, she had a great deal of things she wanted to say. Still she bit back the accusation on her lips _._ This fragile peace between them was tenuous at best, she could not afford to risk it. She nodded instead, “Of course. Thank you.”

He gave a curt nod in acknowledgement, then turned away with a swirl of his black cape. The little girl stumbled, but when she regained her footing, spun around to follow him. Padme leapt forward in an instant, grabbing her hand.

“You have to stay here with me, little one,” she said gently.

Large green eyes looked up at her dubiously. Then with a pout, the little twi’lek turned from her, and pointed after Vader.

“Big man,” the girl stated. “We fly!”

Padme peered after Vader. By now he had almost reached the door to his quarters. But even from here, she could make out his broad shoulders.  Once he had liked children, probably because he could act so much like one himself, sometimes. “He is indeed big,” she admitted, “Big and surly.” _And dangerous_ , but she didn’t say that aloud, not in front of an innocent child.

The girl oblivious to that fact, looked up at her expectantly. Padme tried for another smile. “I am afraid the big man is very busy.  Won’t you stay here with me instead?”

The girl cocked her head, before she nodded, her lekku wobbling as she did. Padme didn’t know what the girl had been through, but she seemed more curious than afraid. At least he hadn’t hurt her then.

Taking the girls small hand in hers, Padme led her into her own quarters. She gave it a small squeeze, her throat clenched, she missed this, the feel of a warm hand in hers.  Sitting down on the floor beside the girl, she pointed at herself. “My name is Padme. What is yours?”

The girl grinned up at her, “Thea. I want to fly more!”

Thea’s joy was so infectious, a precious thing in a place so devoid of it, that Padme smiled as she pressed her commlink.

Alden quickly appeared in the doorway, giving her a formal bow.  He had returned to duty only this morning. And although he had been polite, he had also been more distant. Her being Vader’s wife had clearly changed her role, from victim, to something else. Though she couldn’t quite say what he had decided she was. And neither could she, if she was honest.

“Can I help you with anything my lady?” he said, his voice raspy and harsh. Clear evidence of his near brush with death.

Guilt hit her, it seemed Vader had been more right, than she had liked to admit. She opened her mouth to speak, but as she did, Thea wrenched away from her hand, running towards her father as quickly as she possible could.

“Papa!” she screeched.

“Thea?” Alden’s mouth fell open, before he dropped to his knees, opening his arms wide. Thea flung herself into his embrace.

Padme’s now empty hand clenched involuntarily. She felt deprived, even though she knew this wasn’t her child.  But Alden’s raw expression of joy wiped her selfishness away in an instant.

He laughed, the action lighting up his entire face. Picking Thea up, he hugged her tightly, before pulling back to cup her face, like he was making sure she was real.  Then he laughed again, only to hug her to him once more.

A father’s love. Padme swallowed hard. Even Alden’s joy could not drown out her own sorrow for long. At that moment, she longed for her own father. To be embraced like that, in his familiar arms. Too yet again be an innocent.

Alden’s gleaming eyes met hers, over his daughter’s slim shoulders. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, before hugging his daughter to himself again. “Thank you. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” she said, swallowing hard,” And I think you can call me Padme now.”

Alden reluctantly let go of his daughter, when she started to wiggle impatiently. Standing on her tip toes, she ripped his cap of, clutching it tightly to her chest, looking very satisfied with herself. Without his cap, Alden’s white bandage stood out against his blond head. Padme flinched. This might never have happened, this man now might now have been dead, and her husband the one who had killed him.  Like he had killed countless others.

Alden shook his head, “That’s not true, and you know it. This is everything to me. Thank you again,” he smiled widely at her. “No, thank you, Padme. All though… “his voice dropped, his eyes darting nervously towards the door, “I will only call you that when we are alone. I really do not have a death wish.”

She winced, “I am sorry about that Captain. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s just…” she rubbed her cuff, trying to rip it off, but it didn’t budge any more than the last few times she had tried. “It’s just sitting here like a trapped animal. Well it’s driving me crazy. I never meant for you to get hurt.”

Alden rested a hand on Thea’s head stroking it gently. “I get that. And I suppose we are even now, I drugged you, you drugged me.”

“I suppose, “she smiled, before adding sadly, “He won’t let you keep her you know.”

His face fell. “I know.”

Thea tugged at his uniform, making him smile again. Leaning down he whispered something that made her giggle.

Padme smiled as well, but her smile was bittersweet. It was not so long ago, since the twins had been that age, but time past by so quickly. And every day they were parted, they would continue to grow, and she wouldn’t be there to see it.

“Padme?” Alden said suddenly. He had stopped whispering, and was watching her intently.

“Yes, it’s true,” she said dully, before he had a chance to ask. She met his eyes, prepared for his condemnation. “It’s all true. Vader is my husband.”

His eyes widened. But to her surprise there was no condemnation to be found, only pity. Which in some ways almost felt worse.

“Did– “Alden started, but Thea reached up to pull at his hair interrupting him before he could finish.

“Hair,” she giggled, when she got a good handful.

Alden stopped her gently. “No pulling sweetheart,” he told her, before turning his attention back to Padme. “Did he– “he pulled a face, clearly uncomfortable. “Did he make you?”

Padme picked at the fabric of her dress. “No, it wasn’t like that,” she said quietly, avoiding his gaze.” I loved him. And force help me, I still do.”

Alden grimaced, making her defensive. Her head snapped up. “You didn’t know him Alden, he wasn’t always like this. He was a good man once. Funny, kind, even gentle. This isn’t who he really is. It just isn’t. It can’t be…” Her voice trailed off, as her words died in her throat. She bent her head again, not sure who she was trying to convince anymore, Alden or herself.

From the corner of her eye she saw him giver her another look, more pity this time. Or perhaps it was in the way someone would look at a delusional person. She hugged herself, she wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t delusional. But she had been once. Once she had denied the truth, and lost everything. Yet what did it matter now? She had lost everything anyway, she might as well be crazy.

“Well you did stop him from killing me, “Alden murmured finally, perhaps trying comfort her. “I have never seen anyone do that. Only the Emperor can keep him at bay. That’s if the stories are to be believed.”

His words did little to comfort her. “At bay, “she said harshly. “You make him sound like a wild animal. He is just a man.”

Before she could say anymore, a small hand touched her face. “Sad,” Thea had made her way over to her, and was gently patting her cheek. “Big man is sad too.”

Padme blinked at her. Both Leia and Luke would say things like that sometime, like they could somehow sense her pain. Anakin always had, he had _known_ when she hurt. Ice settled in her stomach. This wasn’t happening, she was probably just making something over nothing.

She touched Thea’s arm gently, “Thea, how do you know the big man is sad?”

Thea shrugged, “Big man hurt here,” she said, pointing to her own heart.

Padme glanced over at Alden, noticing he was wearing the same horrific expression, that she surely was.

“Children are perceptive, much more so than adults. It’s probably nothing, “he said, coming over. But he didn’t look convinced at his own words.

“Was she tested, does it run in your family?” she asked, her grip tightening on the girl desperately. Not another one, Vader would not harm another one. Not while she was still breathing.

“No, not in mine. Although my wife’s aunt was a Jedi. I just never thought of it,” he admitted with a shrug. “Her family didn’t talk of her often. I think it hurt too much, they were not allowed contact with her, because Jedi were not allowed– “

“Family. Yes, I know,” she finished for him, the old guilt returning. She had known all that, and selfishly wanted Anakin anyway. And now they were all paying the price for her greed.

Alden sat down next to her. “We kept her birth a secret for as long as we could. Of the records,” He grimaced, holding his hands over Thea’s pointy ears. “My father didn’t approve of his son marrying a twi’lek. Polluting his pure blood line, as he would call it. And you know how the empire feels about aliens.”

She nodded, life for the other races of the galaxy had not gotten easier under Imperial rule.

“I left everything behind, wanting no part of it. But he found us, and took them from me,” Alden’s expression darkened.” If I don’t obey, he threated to sell them. According to him, it’s the only use for their kind,” he said bitterly.

“I am so sorry,” she replied.

Thea looked between them in confusion, but didn’t seem to understand what was going on. Impatient she wrenched free from her father’s grip, stomping her foot, “Play now, papa?”

Alden’s rage faded, like it had never been. “Of course, my love,” he replied, picking her up.

Padme remained seated on the floor, playing with her cuffs. Very much afraid that being sold into slavery, was now the very least of Thea’s problems.

“Alden,” she said solemnly, meeting his gaze. “He must never know this. Even if it’s nothing. Even if it’s just the innocent ramblings of a child. He must never, ever know!”

His eyes narrowed at her. They were green she noticed, just like his daughter. “Will you tell him?”

She recoiled. He might as well have slapped her, “Of course, not!” she replied horrified, before shaking her head bitterly, “But I don’t know if I can stop him either. I am not sure I know anything anymore.”

Alden pulled Thea closer. She knew his fear, she knew it all too well.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know many of you want to know what Vader wants, but I am afraid you have to wait until next chapter. Which I am working hard on. In the meantime Vader has to do more than mope:)

The old apartment building ahead of him was dark, abandoned. Likely none had lived there for years, perhaps even decades. Vader sharpened his senses and listened. But all he could hear was the traffic, and the sound of his own breathing. In and out it went. A constant reminder of his failings. Had it always been this loud?

Ignoring the incessant hiss, he cocked his head to the wind. Now, his other sense was speaking. Somewhere ahead, a faint hint of fear tinged the cool night air. Yet, fear and misery were commonplace on Coruscant.

Slowly he turned to the trooper at his side, narrowing his eyes. He trusted no one. But once, he had had some degree of confidence in his men. Now? Now, he saw a traitor at every door.  Yet this one he trusted more than most. “You are certain this is the place?”

The trooper nodded vigorously, “Yes my lord. As you ordered, we watched him from the moment he set foot on Coruscant. He almost managed to evade us there for a while, but this is the place. And he is not alone.”

Vader gave a curt nod in acknowledgment, it was as he had expected then. “Good work. I want eyes and ears on anyone that leaves the building. But do not intervene!”

The trooper nodded again, and stepped away, disappearing into the dark. Good, he had no more need for him tonight.

Tensing his legs, Vader leapt onto the balcony above him, landing steadily on his feet on its crocked surface. It was deserted. The only signs of life, a weak beam of light spilling out through the balcony window. Walking to a side door, he opened it carefully, making no sound, not even a breath, as he continued down the hallway.

It didn’t take long, before the quiet whispers of hushed voices could be heard, causing him to stop. Nothing less than desperation could have led them here tonight, or they were more incompetent then he had thought. Coruscant was the Emperors domain, nowhere was safe for traitors. The voices increased pitch, an argument perhaps? He inhaled, concealing the sound within the agitated chatter.

Emotions assaulted him. It felt like desperation. Like fear. Good. He knew all too well, to what lengths the desperate would be willing to go. In fact, this time he was counting on it.

His eyes followed the source of the dim light. It came from a crack in a set of double doors at the end of the corridor, guarded by a single guard. Foolishly they must have thought the darkness would protect them.  All it had done, was offer him an advantage. Keeping close to the wall, he melded with the shadows until they were one. Moving ever closer to the unsuspecting guard.

It was over before the man even knew what hit him. With one hand, Vader muffled his cry, with the other, ended his life. Quickly, and efficiently, before gently lowering the body to the ground, then peering through the crack.

Sitting together, a small crowd of senators, spoke quietly amongst themselves. Their argument evidently over. None of them were unknown to him, all were suspected traitors to the Empire. Yet, some more than others.

A red headed woman rose from her seat to address the others. He recognized her instantly, Mon Mothma. That she was part of this, came as no surprise. She had never hesitated to make her dislike for the Empire known.

With an agitated wave of her hand, she swung around. As she stepped aside, she finally revealed his intended quarry, Bail Organa, seated behind her on a worn-down sofa.

“And your certain of this?” she asked.

Bail let out a tired sigh. “Like I have already said. We know they are building something. Something massive. Likely a weapon of some sorts.”

“Yet, you have no proof, no evidence to support the fact. You know as well as I do, that the senate will not act on hearsay alone. We need more than words Bail. And even then, I don’t know if it will be enough, they will probably still be to cowardly to act.”

“They are frightened Mon, it’s only natural.”

Mon scoffed, “They will be more frightened yet, if the Emperor and his pet have their way.”

Vader hissed beneath his breath. Pet, was he?

_“Yes.”_ The voice snorted in agreement. Resting his hand on the door, he ignored it. It was becoming way to loud lately. Incessant, just like his breathing.

Deflated Mon sat back down. “But it’s more than rumours, that made you risk calling this meeting tonight isn’t there?”

Bail nodded. “I have reason to believe, that one of our own has been captured, perhaps even killed.”

Vader snapped to attention, narrowing his eyes at Bail. He had suspected for some time now, all he lacked was conformation. Padme would not have been able to fake her death without help. Powerful help. And who better, then an old friend and colleague?

“That’s nothing new Bail,” Mon replied, sounding bitter. “It happens all the time. We have covered our tracks as best we could.”

“But I fear this time it’s worse. A lot worse,” Bail replied. “This woman knows all of us, and though I know she would never betray us willingly, we all know what the empire is capable of doing to make someone talk.”

Vader’s lips curled. There it was. Bail knew. And by his own words, had condemned himself.

Mothma looked as agitated as he felt, funny they should have something in common.  “Who is it? And why have I heard nothing of this before now?”

Bail seemed to hesitate, but by now he had heard enough. With a hard shove, he pushed the double doors open. A deadly quiet spread across the room in an instant, as all heads turned towards him. Ignoring their stares, he walked over, and sat down in a vacant chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Mon Mothma blinked in shock, but quickly recovered, and to his surprise took a step towards him. Even cornered, she was defiant. He almost admired her tenacity. Though her lack of fear was ill advised.

“You are not welcome here Lord Vader, this is a private meeting!” she snapped at him, “Not your personal playground.”

“Is it now? From what I _overheard,_ it seems to me to be a gathering of traitors,” he replied coolly.

The fear in the room stank enough, to make him wrinkle his nose. By now several of the others had risen to their feet, no longer brave when they didn’t have anything to hide behind. Some were unable to look away from him. Others looked nervously towards the door, probably waiting for his troopers.

He could see Mon Mothma’s jaw work, as she struggled to keep her composure. Remaining seated he raised an eyebrow beneath the mask. _Go one,_ he thought. Just _give me a reason._ She said nothing, but the stare she levelled at him, said everything. He _chose_ to let it pass.

Instead he turned towards Bail Organa, who was looking at him in unconcealed horror, the truth written all over his face.

Keeping his anger in check, he indicated the room with one hand. “I have to say I am disappointed, I had expected better. Meeting here like this, is a pointless risk that will lead the Emperor straight to your door.”

“Evidently,” Mon Mothma bit out, shooting Bail a dark look.

He settled back in the chair. “It’s lucky for you then, that _I_ am not the Emperor.”

Turning his head slowly, he deliberately let his gaze rest on each person in the room, making it known he had seen them. Besides Mon Mothma, they all refused to meet his gaze. Cowards.

“Now, get out. I wish to speak to Senator Organa _alone_.”

“Get out?” For once Mon Mothma looked perplexed. Had he been in the mood, he would have found it amusing.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, or question my mercy, “he replied, turning an icy stare on Bail. “For the time being, I have deflected the Emperors attention away from your little gathering, keep your mouths shut, and it will remain that way. Now leave before I change my mind.”

Several of the senators exchanged confused glances, but none dared move, probably because they didn’t believe him. Which in most other circumstances, they shouldn’t have, but things were different now. It irked him to admit it.

Bail was the first to move. Rising from his seat he put a hand on Mon Mothma’s shoulder, shaking his head slightly.

“I think its best you leave. I will deal with this.”

Mon Mothma clenched her jaw tightly, before relenting, with on last glare aimed at him she left, and one by one the other senators followed, scuttling hurriedly from the room, until finally, they were alone.

Bail sank down into a chair opposite him, although hunched, Vader did not see fear, just sorrow. But Bail concealed it quickly. Vader was not surprised. Politicians were nothing, if not well practiced liars.

“Is there something I can help you with Lord Vader?” Bail asked in a surprisingly calm voice.

But a blank mask was not enough to hide his true feelings from Vader, and they were far from calm. Leaning back, he folded his arms across his chest. “Skip the pretense, Senator Organa. You know very well, why I am here.”

“I can’t say that I– “

Vader bared his teeth, holding up a hand, forestalling any more pointless protests, “Please considered your next words, very carefully. I do _not,_ take kindly to liars!”

Bail closed his eyes briefly, letting out a sigh, like a man resigning himself to his fate. When he opened them again, he stared at Vader unflinching.

“Just tell me this, is she dead?”

Something inside him tightened, making him feel suddenly uncomfortable. She had looked ill last night, her eyes dull and empty. At first, he thought it was because he had frightened her. But some ancient feeling of unease flickered in his chest. He knew it, recognized it, _loathed_ it.

_Fear._

Even now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Bail’s face fell, taking his silence for confirmation. “I see.”

Vader narrowed his eyes at him. No, Bail did not see. Padme was his, he would not kill what was his. However, he suffered no such qualms, for those who tried to keep her from him. Whoever they may be. “You would do better to concern yourself with your own wife, “he said harshly. “Not mine.”

Bail sagged back into the sofa, eyes wide. His politician’s façade momentarily cracking.

“My wife is the Queen of Alderaan, you would not dare touch her, there would be a public outcry.”

Vader rose, staring down at the man in front of him. He must truly be slipping, if that was what Organa thought of him. But he was wrong, they were all wrong!

“Wouldn’t I?” he asked icily. Feeling his anger rise, he paced across the room, clasping his hands behind his back.  Staring at the cracked wall in front of him, broken but still somehow holding together. He knew that feeling. He had the strange urge to rip it apart, to widened the crack until it crumpled completely.

“I think you will find, there is nothing that I would not do, to get what is rightfully mine,” he added. Taking a breath, he turned back to Bail, he had not come here to kill him, not yet. “And you _will_ help me get it. “

“And why would I do that?”

Vader surprised himself by having to suppress a laugh. “Or else, you and your little gathering will suffer the Emperor’s mercy instead of mine, of course. And believe me, he is not as forgiving as I am.”

Bail had risen to his feet. There was no pretense anymore, the loathing obvious. “From where I am standing, there is little difference between you and him, Lord Vader. There was once, but not anymore.”

The insult and implication was clear. Vader lunged forward, lifting Bail by the neck he shook him hard. “You are going to send a message for me!” he snarled into the older man’s face, “Tell my old master to bring what is mine, to the place where he _left_ me! Or else I will leave a never-ending trail of dead in my wake, starting with all that you hold dear.”

Vader could feel his chest tighten at his own words, the feeling of rage mixing with grief, shocked him. With a flick of his hand, he tossed Bail across the room taking a step back.

Breathing heavily, he made himself stand completely still, he was over that. He had been over that the moment the fires of Mustafar had started to lick at what remained of his legs. For as long as he lived he would remembered the stench, feel the black sand beneath his fingertips, scratching him hard enough to bleed. Him desperately trying to crawl up the steep bank. Ahead of him Obi Wan’s tear stained face. Blood filling his own eyes, as he tried to dig himself out of that pit. But he hadn’t escaped the flames, he realized now. He was still there, he was burning. He would always burn.

He drew another breath, hissing at Bail. “Get up!” Even lying on his back, the senator was composed. Too much so, for someone closer to death then he had ever been. 

“Even if I did know how to contact him, and did as you ask. You would kill me and the rest, either way. So, no Lord Vader,” Bail said quietly, staggering to his feet, “I do _not_ accept your ultimatum. “

Vader stared down at the man in front of him, and in that moment _hated_ him. The fire flickered within, setting his blood on fire. He _hated_ him for being everything he was not. For being someone that Padme could care for, a decent man, a good one. Not like him, not like the darkness.

He straightened. Yet the darkness had one virtue at least, it didn’t hesitate.

“That is true,” he replied, taking a step closer. Death was a much too generous punishment. Bail deserved a lot worse for the part he had played in keeping Padme from him, because by now, there was little doubt in Vader’s mind that he had. But he didn’t have time for vengeance.

“But I am not without mercy,” he fixed his eyes on Bails. “Do as I say, and I will consider sparing your wife. She is here for the celebration, is she not? “

He felt a flicker of satisfaction watching Bail’s face pale, wither as he finally understood. Vader smiled then, but there was no real mirth behind it, there never was, “Is strange isn’t it, the lengths we will go to, for those we love. Is it not senator?”

Bail made no reply.


	24. Chapter 24

“Captain, bring me a pillow.”

“A _pillow_ my lord?” Came Alden’s incredulous reply, crackling through his commlink, making Vader feel oddly foolish.

“You heard me!” he snapped back.

Below him, seated on the cold floor, Padme visibly startled. Forcing himself to relax, he dropped his arm to his side, staring down at her solemn face, brows furrowed.

Although she sat completely still, her eyes followed his every move.  In their dark depths, his saw a mixture of fear and weariness. She might think he didn’t notice, but he did. And once, being this close, he would have felt it too.

Turning his head away from her penetrating gaze, he took in room around them. In an effort, to make her feel more at ease, he had decided on a room that was neither his, nor hers. Although he had forgotten, this one was completely devoid of any furniture.  He snorted inwardly at himself, foolish indeed.

However, Padme didn’t seem to mind. Not that part at least. When he had told her, he needed her seated, she had just taken one look around, before sitting down directly on the floor in front of him, cross legged. Despite her unease, it was a strangely trusting gesture. Another odd feeling started to resurface within him. But for this one, he had no name.

“So, are you going to tell me what is this all about then?” she asked, still looking up at him expectantly.

Before he had a chance to reply, Alden appeared in the doorway, brandishing not one, but two pillows in front of him.

“Which one my lord?” he asked, in all seriousness, “I wasn’t certain about the size.”

Vader glared at him. It seemed oxygen deprivation must have mangled the Captain’s senses. After all, it was possible. Reading an icy remark, he opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted yet again. But this time, it was by a short snort of laughter coming from the direction of his feet.

 _Padme_.

Momentarily confounded, he looked down at her again, but she had clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. Noticing his regard, her head lifted, her eyes meeting his. For an instant, he saw the laughter within them, before the mirth vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and they returned to their constant state of unease.   Bending over slightly, he leaned closer, studying her with rapt attention. Finding himself hoping for another glimpse, or another unexpected burst of joy, but nothing came. Instead she dropped her hand limply back into her lap.

How he wished she hadn’t stopped herself. Although all to brief, it had sounded… pleasant.

Somewhere behind them, Alden cleared his throat, “I’ll leave those here, shall I?” he said, offering the pillows to Padme, not to Vader, before quickly retreating from the room. Vader narrowed his eyes after him. Clearly the Captain had retained some sense _,_ considering his wisely chosen exit. Though gauging by his chosen selection of pillows, clearly not enough.

Grabbing the bigger pillow for herself, Padme shifted, before settling down again atop of it. When she was done, he lowered himself down to his knees in front of her. Only to find himself staring at her beautiful face, studying every familiar feature intently, like he had caught himself doing so many times lately.

She was so close. He could see her, he could even reach out and touch her if he wished. Yet, through the force he felt almost nothing. A tiny flicker of life at best. But it wasn’t _her,_ not like it should be, not like had been. The whole thing, was grating in its wrongness. It felt like thievery. Like in some ways, someone was still stealing her from him. He gritted his teeth at the thought, he would not allow it to continue.

“You want one?” she asked innocently, offering him the remaining of the two pillows. This one was barely the size of his helmed head.

“No, thank you,” he replied, his ire evaporating into momentary confusion. Was she teasing him? She wouldn’t, would she? No one ever did that. Not anymore. Although, it wasn’t like he would have allowed such a thing from anyone else.

“Suit yourself,” she said, hugging the pillow nervously to her chest. Any trace of teasing now gone.

There was nothing he could say or do to reassure her, he knew that. What he intended to do next, she was not going to like regardless. Tugging off his left glove, he moved closer, until his knees brushed up against her, pretending not to notice how she stiffened at the contact.

Sitting this close to her, despite the red of his visor, he could see the dark circles beneath her eyes, the prominent contour of her cheekbones. It almost made him hesitate. He had never done this before, nor did he know if it would actual work. Yet, there was no turning back now, he needed to know. Knowledge was power, and without power, they were both dead.  And more than that, he would find out who dared conceal her from him, and then he would make them pay!

“I need to be able to touch you,” he told her. Holding his hand out, he drew a breath to calm himself. After all, his ire was not aimed at her.

She paused, eyeing him carefully, before finally nodding her consent.

Only then, did he reach out to cup her cheek, stroking his thumb lightly across her cheekbone. Even weary, she was still the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

He frowned, yet her face was gaunter then he remembered, her cheekbones a little too sharp. Was she still not eating enough? He would have to talk to the Captain about that. Had he not warned him enough times already, of what would happen if he failed in his duties? It seemed perhaps the Captain needed another reminder. Letting his fingers continue their exploration, he stored that thought away, there would be time to deal with that later. 

A small gasp escaped Padme’s parted lips, one she didn’t catch in time to conceal. When he realised it was not one of fear, something inside him hummed pleasantly. Yet with it, came another a lot less pleasant feeling. There was no way, he could do this without her noticing.

“Padme,” he said, deciding on honesty. Holding her cheek now, this time wanting her to look at him when he spoke. “I intend to use the force on you. And I need you not to fight me on this.”

She tried recoiling from him, her soft expression vaporizing in an instant, reforming into one of cold hard dread. “What? No!”

There was no need to say anymore, he knew what she was thinking, because he was thinking it too. Involuntarily his eyes flickered to her throat, watching her swallow hard. Tracing his fingers down her cheek, he touched her slender neck, just to feel her heartbeat flutter erratically against his fingertips. He felt his own follow suit, increasing in pace, until it drummed loudly in his ears, drowning out his breathing.

Without her, his heartbeat had just been an echo, a poor imitation of life. Now it jumped in his chest, startling him with its force. With a life, he had thought long lost. Staring at her throat, to his surprise, he felt his own constrict, making it even harder than normal to breathe.

_I didn’t mean to. I am sorry. I am so sorry._

Starting to shake her head vehemently, she retreated even further away, trying to escape his hold. This time he let her go, his hand falling to his knee. Lost, is clutched at the leather. No longer could he feel the beat, his own heart, or hers, it didn’t matter. They were the same. Without her, his didn’t tick. Its sluggish mechanical beat, only a poor mockery of life. An abomination.

Eyes wide with fear, nailed him hard, with their unspoken accusation, “No. Just no.”

“I won’t harm you,” he said, trying to infuse each word with as much meaning as he could. Yet even he had to admit, it came out sounding hollow.

However, he would not back down now. Everything he didn’t know, was a potential ambush, a potential future threat. So, frightened or not, he followed her retreat, delivering the words, he knew would make her comply to his wishes, it was simply who she was.

“You made me a promise, remember?”

Her eyes flashed in annoyance. But he actually preferred her anger, to her fear. It was more honest. Moving on to her knees, she clenched her jaw with a glare. There, that was more like it.

“Fine. But be quick.”

He nodded. Lifting his arms to touch her again, he cradled her head between his hands, as gently as he could.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured, reaching inside himself, trying to tame furnace within, into a fire that would not burn.

Unblinking she stared at him, “No, I’ll keep them open, if you don’t mind.”

“As you wish,” he replied. It wasn’t like he needed them closed, he didn’t even know why he had asked in the first place. Perhaps it was because he wanted her to stop staring at him like that. What she was looking for, was long gone.

Closing his own eyes instead, he reached for her, through his touch, through his power. Seeking that fierce connection that once had bound them closer than blood, closer than the physical. From the inner rim to the outer core, no distance too far, he had always felt her. Known her, as well as himself. But now there was just an empty space where she had been, just another piece taken from him.

He pushed a little harder, the need within growing.

Still, her presence evaded him, passing through his fingers, like water in a stream. Vaguely somewhere out of reach, but never close enough to catch. Annoyed he sharpened his mental touch, until a dim light started to appear, increasing in brightness as he moved closer towards it. It churned around her, like a bright maelstrom. A cocoon deflecting his efforts. _It_ was what he felt, not her.  Frustrated he opened his eyes.

“Why can’t I feel _you_?”

Beneath his hands, he felt her relax. Clearly, she had been expecting a lot worse.

“That is, you question?”

He nodded, but kept going, focusing his power into a lance, trying to pierce his way through. The old Jedi words echoing in his head. _It’s not true concealment, only deflection. Look directly at it, it cannot hide. Find its anchor and push._

Grabbing his hands, she removed them from her face, to lay down in her lap. Still she didn’t let him go, instead tracing the lines of his flesh palm with her finger. Up and down. The feel of her warm touch, travelled up his arm, beneath his armour, making his skin prickle in awareness. His concentration wavered momentarily, but he caught himself. No time for that.

“I don’t know,” she replied, without looking at him. Instead seeming mesmerised with her repetitive task, and strangely so was he, “No one knows.”

He gathered this _no one_ , was Obi Wan. It took a great deal of effort to keep his temper at bay. “Are you lying? Did Obi Wan do this to hide you from me?” he sneered. The thought infuriating. She was _his_ , no one would take her from him. Least of all his old master.

Abruptly the motion stopped, and she let go, pushing him away. Staring down in his own lap, he watched his fist, clenched and unclench, feeling confused. Touch, what a strange feeling, he hadn’t even known he had missed it.

 _Now who is lying?_ It snorted.

“You are seriously paranoid, do you know that?” she replied bitterly, finally looking up, “And no, I am not _lying_.”

He ignored her remark, “Then how? When?”

“How?” she asked harshly, leaning back on her heels, glaring at him, “Giving birth to our son that’s how!”

_Alone_

She didn’t say it, but he heard it, her resentment. No. Elation hit him, he could _feel_ it. Resting by her thigh on the pillow, her hand had clenched into a fist, knuckles white. The air between them crackled with her rage. He grabbed her hand, folding the small fist into his own. No longer careful, closing his eyes, he pushed again.

And there it was. Dim at first, but unmistakeably her. Soothing, intoxicating. Different, yet somehow still the same. He let out a sigh in relief, when her presence grew slightly in brightness. Inhaling her, he filled himself with her, just as air filled his lungs. And for a moment it almost felt like he could truly breathe.

Somewhere in the distance he heard her let out a startled cry. When she tried to pull from his grasp, he tightened his grip. Not now, not yet. Not when he was this close.

“Anakin, stop it!”

Ignoring her, he kept going. Digging deeper, searching for the disconnect that had hidden her from him for so long. It still evaded him. Aggravated he followed it. The light that met him, tried again to push him away. Rage hit him then. Padme was _his_. Gathering more power to himself he launched it forward. Satisfaction poured though him as the cocoon ripped apart, helpless beneath his onslaught.

That’s when it happened. An ear-piercing scream tore through the air, snapping him back to reality, just in time to see Padme rip away from him.

Rearing back, she landed on her backside. Using both legs, she kicked him square in the chest, hard enough that in his daze, he toppled backwards from the impact, hitting the floor with a groan. And so, did she. But unlike him, she didn’t get back up. Instead she lay there clutching her stomach, uttering no words, just a never ending agonized cry of pain.

_No!_

A guttural noise ripped from his throat as he lunged forward, by her side in an instant. He felt her now alright, clear as day. He felt her agony, her pain, her sadness, her disappointment.  And it hurt. Oh, how it hurt.

“Shh,” he said trying to soothe her as best he could, while looking for any signs of injury, finding nothing. Mouth dry, he tried to speak, only to find that for a second time in his miserable life, he didn’t recognise his own voice. It was hoarse. Pathetically weak as it tried to form words, any words. But all that came out, was nonsense. He shushed her again, but she just kept screaming.

Why wouldn’t she stop screaming?

Wild eyes focused on him, as he cradled her. And he saw his own reflection within them. Once they had gazed upon him with affection. Now they were hurt and empty, accusatory. Reflecting, back at him only what he gave. Darkness. Pain. The lack of light, of love.

Then before he had a chance to do anything else, her entire body tensed. Arching upwards, her eyes rolled back into her skull. Then she went slack, silent in his arms, lifeless like a broken doll.

Frantic now, he scoped her up, rising to his feet in an instant. As he moved, her head lulled against his shoulder without protest, without as much as a sound. Moments ago, he had wanted nothing more than for her to stop screaming, now her silence felt like a blade through his ribs. He rushed out of the room, all the while not looking away from her face.  He could feel her fading, the presence he had just found, being taken from him, yet again.

And she? She was going to think he had done this deliberately. Tried to hurt her on purpose. But he hadn’t meant to. Force he hadn’t meant too.

Running down the corridor, he was at the med bay in moments, gently laying her down on the single bunk bed that dominated the small room. Only stepping away from her, to reluctantly make room for the medical droid. Waiting impatiently as it examined her. As it touched her, her eyelids fluttered, but she didn’t open them again.

 _I told you, you would hurt her._ It said angrily _. It’s all you know how to do. It what you are!_

For once, he let it rail at him without protest,

“There is nothing wrong, sir,” The droid said in its monotone voice, turning to him, after a pause that had felt like it had lasted for an eternity.

“What do you mean there is nothing wrong? If there was nothing wrong she wouldn’t be hurting!” he snarled. But the droid just stared at him blankly, with its vacant mechanical eyes. How he hated those dead things.

Moving forward he pushed the droid out of way, to lay a hand on her shoulder. Reaching out again for her with his power, this time his touch as gentle as a feathered brush. Her presence in the force pulsed at him. Yet it was saturated with wrongness. A wrongness that was suffocating her life force, staining it with the dark.  

Whatever had been hiding her, had not only hid her, but had also protected her. And he, in his greedy anger, had ripped it apart. All he had wanted was to _feel_ her, not hurt her. Never that.

 _You should have burned to death in the flames._ It hissed.

“I did, didn’t I?” he replied out loud, genuinely confused.

“What did you say my lord?” The utterly useless droid asked him.

“Shut up!” he told it.

Not knowing what to do, he clenched the metal frame of the bed with his prosthetic hand, hard enough to crumble the metal. Her presence was fading quickly. Whatever ailed her not physical. So, nothing physical could help her. And the darkness of his touch made whatever had, retreat at his every approach.

Desperate he reached for the one part of him, he had truly lost on Mustafar. Not his limbs. Not his ability to breathe.

But his heart.

The anger inside him went momentarily silent, its void painful. But the voice for once didn’t fight him nor did he fight it.  

When he reached for the tattered remains of her shield again, it reluctantly let him near.   Squeezing his eyes shut, focusing, he tied each broken strand together, one by one, until his was sweating. Feeling cold and warm all at the same time.

After what felt like an eternity he had recreated it, as best he could. Still it was a pathetic effort compare to what it had been. Somehow the pieces didn’t quite fit right. But it was working, she was breathing evenly, resting now.

At the sound of shuffling feet, his head snapped up, to find Alden standing there, staring at him slack jawed. Padme screams must have brought the him here. It was brave of him to risk remaining after spotting Vader. Some strange loyalty to Padme perhaps? Or perhaps it was something more cynical, and Alden realised if she died, Vader would have no more need for him. It didn’t matter, if he was here, he might as well do something useful.

“Get her something clean to sleep in.”

Alden’s mouth snapped shut at Vader’s order, and he took two steps back, “Of course, my lord, right away,” he replied, before spinning on his heel, leaving the med bay in an instant.

Steading himself, Vader went to remove her clothes. Starting with her boots first. She was wearing a rather sturdy pair. When had he gotten her boots?

It didn’t matter, he threw them away, one hitting the droid right in the head.  He’d get her a million sturdy boots to kick him with if she wanted.

Mechanically he tugged at her trouser, removing them as quickly as he could. Throwing them away as well, he covered her legs in a blanket, the droid gave him. He didn’t want to leave her exposed. She would hate that.

When he moved on to her shirt, he paused. It was buttoned down the middle, which would make it easy enough to remove. Yet then why was he hesitating? Angrily he pushed that foolish notion away and he did what he always did these days, acting not doubting. Certainly, not feeling. One button, then the next, each one revealing more and more skin. Warm skin, his hand twitched. But he didn’t touch more than was needed, it didn’t feel right.

When the last button was undone, he gentle pulled the white fabric to the side, exposing her chest, and abdomen.  The underwear he would leave on.

Spotting her necklace, unable to help it, his eyes followed all along the chain, to where the japor snippet rested, just above her navel. This time he did touch, pressing his hand down on her abdomen, although staying clear of the snippet itself. A child had made that, he was a child no more.

_A child._

As she drew another breath, her stomach moved beneath his hand. But unlike last time he had touched her there, it was empty now. No flicker of a little life pulsed against his palm. It had been so long ago, but he remembered it like yesterday. Her stomach had been swollen then, and a lot firmer than he had expected. The little kick had made him laugh, he recalled. So, small, yet already so forceful.

_Luke_

Alden came back into the room. On reflex, Vader pulled his hand away.  Like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. It was only then, he realised his hand was shaking.

The Captain approached him, like one would a wild animal, handing him a white nightdress. Then stepping away quickly. All the way avoiding looking at Padme’s state of undress. Vader appreciated that.

“You may leave,” he stated.

Alden nodded, casting one single worried glance at Padme’s face, and then he was gone.

It didn’t take Vader long to finish his task. Finding himself relived when her body was finally covered, he didn’t want to look at it anymore.

Then medical droid did another check up to make sure she was alright. Then for the second time that night he lifted her into his arms, cradling her to him. White against his black. Her white and lifeless like a stone statue, likely pale as a shroud. But unlike the statue she was soft, pliable.  He was the one that was made of stone. He was the one that was cracked and broken.

Slowly as not to wake her, he walked to her quarters. Once there he lowered her onto the bed, tucking her in so she wouldn’t freeze. She would be more comfortable here, in her own bed, than on the bunk.

Briefly she stirred. Standing above her, he looked down at her. But he didn’t touch her again, fearing that if she awoke, she would see him and turn away.

Although she seemed to be sleeping peacefully, he couldn’t tell if her skin was pale.  Or healthy. What remained of his body shook. He had _felt_ her. Ringing through the force, her presence so bright it left him reeling. It was mostly gone now; his repairs had hidden it away. Even from himself.

 Though he hadn’t turned the light on, his visor granted him some visibility in the dim light, however it made everything red. Red like blood. The normal steadiness of his body failed him, and he sank down onto the floor. This put him as close to her as he dared, but it was so much closer than he should be. He turned his body away, leaning his back onto the bed frame.

With a stray thought from him, the door slid shut, leaving them alone together in the dark. The dark was all he was now, but for her sake he wished it wasn’t so.

Although he had done what he could, something was still not right. Dying she was still dying. Slowly but surely. Perhaps this time he had actually succeeded in killing her.  And he couldn’t take it back, no matter how much he wished to.

What he wished more than anything, was to crawl into the bed with her, to hold her close. Let her presence soothe him as it had always had done. He shook his head, the helmet feeling incredibly heavy, he let his head sink towards his chest.  But in the end, even she had not been enough, he had turned his fury on her, that was never his intention.

But what did it matter now? He had done it again, cared for nothing but himself. And now nothing mattered anymore. For once, instead of the fury inside his chest burning brightly, he felt cold. So, cold. If he did crawl in there with her, maybe it would feel warm. But he knew it wouldn’t. Nothing could warm him anymore, not even the fires of Mustafar. 


	25. Chapter 25

Padme awoke to someone lightly stroking her hair. Startled she sat up in the bed, but the action made her head spin, and she fell back down to the pillow with a groan.  Dazed she blinked up into the dark.  A large shadow was looming over her. It shifted, and the hand that had been stroking her hair, came to rest at the back of her neck.

“Try not to move Padme,” Anakin told her softly.

Despite her confusion, she felt herself smile at the sound of his voice, “Ani?” she called up to him.

There was no reply, but she could hear him breathing, steadily if not a little laboured. Yet, his continued silence left her feeling uneasy. A sudden urge to increase distance between them, she pressed back against his palm. Not seeming willing to let her escape, he lifted her head, holding a glass up to her lips.

“Drink this,” he said at last.

Unthinking she obeyed, letting the cool water soothe her aching throat. It felt raw, like she had been screaming, but she couldn’t seem to recall why. When she opened her mouth to ask, he lowered her back down, brushing a lock of hair that had plastered itself to her skin, away from her temple.

“Don’t try to talk, just rest.”

“What happened?” she asked hoarsely.

Anakin remained quiet. Which only helped to heighten her increasing sense of worry. It was too dark to make out his face, to seek comfort in his eyes. So, suppressing a groan, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, and touched his face instead. But what met her there, left her cold. In an instant, the fog in her brain dissipated, disappointment settling in her gut. She remembered now, she remembered everything.

It was not the first time something like this had happened.

Sometimes, in those first blissful seconds just after waking. Especially after those rare nights, when she was lucky enough to not suffer nightmares, she simply forgot. About Vader, about Mustafar, about everything. And in those moments, she would turn in her bed, seeking the familiar warmth of his body. Only to find… nothing.

Nothing, but regret.

Bitterness rose as she clutched at the mask. It was not worth it. To forget, if only for a second, for a single breath, considering the agony that always followed, as her heart shattered all over again.

Still hovering over her in the darkness, Vader remained still beneath her touch. Seeming so docile now. It almost made her want to hit him, to see what it would take to bring the monster out. What I would take, to make him hurt her again.

He drew a ragged breath, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

There was a vulnerable note to his voice, like he was seeking for her to reassure him. But she wasn’t willing to offer him comfort. A real marriage should be about partnership, support and love. Giving as well as receiving. And right now, she was not in the mood to reassure him, to sooth _his_ aches. She was tired of it, there was nothing left inside her to give. Not to him.

This time she didn’t bother to swallow her bitterness. “But you did it anyway. Even after I told you to stop.”

“I know,” he replied quietly. Bending his head slightly, the soft fabric of his hood grazed her skin. “But I didn’t think that what I was doing would actually harm you. Or I never would have done it. You have to believe that.”

She didn’t. Not anymore. “I have heard that one before,” she replied bitterly, “And no, I don’t believe you. There is no reason left why I should.”

He stiffened. “It was an accident Padme. I wouldn’t deliberately try to hurt you.”

“So, I suppose last time was an _accident_ as well?” she bit out, before she could stop herself.

He kept on breathing above her, her hand still resting on the half mask. The long endless pause deafening. Then he spoke it. That one word, she had so dreaded to here.

“No,” he admitted on a whisper. But she heard it, oh she heard it.

Within her mind, it echoed. Silently she repeated it to herself. Over, and over again. _No_.

Her throat closed, but not from violence, but from grief. Bottomless, endless grief. There had been no need to ask, she had already known the answer. But to hear him say it. It _ached._ She swallowed hard.

He shifted beneath her palm. “I…” he hesitated, “I didn’t…” his voice sounded so small, there was nothing of Vader in it now. Briefly she thought he would say something more, but he just shook his head. And when he spoke again, he sounded cool and collected.

“What happened at that _place_ should never have happened, and it will never happen again.  This I swear.”

She could hear the conviction beneath his words, he really did believe in what he was saying. But it just wasn’t enough. Putting as much pressure on his mask, as her sore muscles would allow, she pushed him away, her hand falling to clutch at the covers.

“Another empty promise Anakin? Don’t waste your words, because that’s all they are. Just words. And your words mean nothing to me now.” She had tried for cool as well, but it came out sounding as bitter as she felt.

“Just lis– “

“No,” she said simply, not wanting to hear any more of his excuses. Cursing herself for her own stupidity. For letting her guard down. What had she expected exactly? This was the same man that had chocked her while she was pregnant. Nothing had stopped him then. Why had she thought he would stop himself now? Of course, he wouldn’t. It had only been a matter of time, before he hurt her again.  

And the worst part of it all, was that she knew in her heart, it wouldn’t be the last time either. One of these days he would be the death of her, intentional or not. That thought hurt more than anything, churning inside her gut like a claw, shredding her from the inside out. Deflated and empty, she started to turn away.

“Padme…”

She froze at the sound of her name. Uttered so softly, so quietly, in that gentle tone he had only ever reserved for her. It threatened to make a liar of her already. Because hearing him speak it like that, meant something, even now. Squeezing her eyes shut, she buried her head in the pillow, wanting to drown it out. Once it had made her feel special, wanted. Now it just hurt her ears.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm the remains of her raging heart. Every moment, every breath, she tried to keep in control. Hoping that somehow, with the right words she could reach whatever was left Anakin, and perhaps save them both. But it was a foolish wish, she realised now. His touch brought only pain. And she was done with pain.

“Padme, just listen to me.”

He touched her again, his hand moving up and down her back, in what was probably supposed to be a soothing motion, burning a trail across her skin. Her entire body tensed. Gentleness, was just another form for torment. Cruel and deceptive, taunting her with what she had lost, with what she could never have again.

Yet, for a moment she lay there, enjoying her agony. Knowing the danger, it represented. Because this deceptive gentleness would surely destroy her, long before his hatred ever could. It offered hope in on instant, only to crush it in the next. No one could survive that for long. It was exhausting.

Finding her strength, she jerked away from him, “Take your hands of me!”

He obeyed instantly, her treacherous body regretting the loss. But there was no going back. Fluffing her pillow rougher than needed, she lay back down. “And now get out of _my_ room. I am tired.”

“No,” he replied, “I am not leaving you like this.”

“Why not?” she bit back, “It’s not like it would be the first time.”

A hand clasped firmly on her shoulder, “If not for Obi Wan, I would have come back for you!” he protested. All trace of gentleness now gone, he tugged her back around.

Laying on her back she stared up at his shadow. Because that was all this was. This was not Anakin.

“Well I wouldn’t have wanted you to, not like you are now. Not after what you did. When will you get that? That I don’t want anything to do with _Vader,_ or any of it,” she hissed, the venom in her words surprising even her.

“You might not want me, but you _need_ me,” he interjected coolly. “Especially now.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

When he didn’t reply, she continued.  “And your wrong, I don’t _need_ you. I have never needed Vader, and I have certainly never wanted him. He is your construct Anakin. Not mine. He wasn’t made for me, he was made for you. By you!”

Silence.

The hand on her shoulder twitched. Angrily she went to remove it, but ended up squeezing it instead. Hard enough to cause him pain. Finding she wanted to hurt him. Vengeance, that was the word. That was what she wanted. She wanted him to suffer, ache just like she did. Her fingers dug into his palm, nails scratching his flesh.

Silent and without protest he accepted her punishment, but that was part of the problem, he wanted the pain. She wondered if he knew it, understood that what he was doing was punishing himself. The realisation made her stop. He was so very good at hurting himself, she wouldn’t aid him in his self-flagellation. 

Again, she sought his eyes in the dark, but they remained hidden from her, “Tell me, why do you do this?”

“Do what?”

“Cling so desperately to something you don’t even want.”

The mattress gave way as he leaned in closer, one arm braced on each side of her pillow. So, close now, that if not for the mask she would have felt his breath on her skin. In the dark, his reply came quickly, without hesitation.

“I do want you Padme. Always.”

It was hard to resist pressing the back of her head further into the pillow, just to get away from him, “I wasn’t taking about me.”

More silence. A breath, then another. Yet no words. No denials, nor any admissions.

She was tired of his excuses, of his silence. And perhaps it was her near brush with death, or the thought of never seeing the twins again. Whatever it was, at his continued silence, something inside her just snapped. Years of diplomacy be damned. Years of weighing just the right words to say before she spoke, to get the wanted result, the right reaction. It flew out the window. Right now, she just didn’t care.

She wanted to scream at him. Shout out her pain until she didn’t hurt anymore. Until that constant painful pressure in her chest finally eased. Perhaps then she would know peace, perhaps then she could truly breathe.

_How could you?_

Breaking free from his confinement, she pushed herself upright, ignoring the pain, the weariness of her body. Finding his shoulders in the darkness, she shook him hard. Yet she didn’t scream, because she knew if she did, she wouldn’t stop. No, she would scream until her lungs burst, and all she could do was croak. Yet, even then she wouldn’t stop. She would never stop.

There was simply too much pain.

“You don’t even know do you?” she raged at him, her nails slipping on the smooth surface of his shoulder armour.

How she _hated_ him. How she _loved_ him. So much so, it physically hurt. These days she could scarcely tell apart the two emotions in her heart anymore. They had melded together as one. Love waring with hate, in an eternal battle. And her only weapon was his love for her. Yet his love for her, might very well be the thing that destroyed her in the end.

A lump formed in her throat. Hadn’t once been enough?

“How could you?” She did hit him then, unable to help a sob from escaping. The armour was solid, hurting her, more than she could ever hurt it.  It didn’t yield, _he_ didn’t yield.

“How could you do _this?_ To me, to us. To our child! And worst of it all, to yourself!”

Her voice broke, shattering just like her heart. She hadn’t known she had the capacity to feel this much pain, she thought she had reached her peak years ago. Evidently not.

When she moved in for another hit, steely hands grabbed her wrists, trapping them in the air between them.

“Pad– “he started.

He was doing it again, saying her name like _that_. So deceptively soft, so gentle. Just in the same way, he would have murmured in her ear, as he moved with her all those years ago, his body pressed close to hers. Then his touch had been pleasure. Now, now it was only pain.

Pushing at his grip, too angry for fear she interrupted him. “No, just stop it. Don’t say my name like that, you don’t have the right. You threw that right away. You threw us away.”

Her chest heaved. Her, Luke, Leia, all of them. He had thrown them all away. And for what?

He didn’t try saying her name again.  In fact, he said nothing more, he just sat there still in the darkness. Silent once again. But he still held on to her. From within the remains of her shattered heart fury rose, and with it, her the last vestige of control.

“You might not know why you this, but I do!” she railed at him, struggling in his grip, “It’s because you are a stubborn idiot. To prideful to admit when you are wrong. So much so, you would rather condemn yourself further, and me with you. Rather than having the guts to do something about it. Because that would be difficult, that would be _hard_. But I suppose, it’s a lot easier to become the monster, then having to face the man!”

His hands tightened around her cuffs.

“Believe me, I know _hard,”_ he replied icily, in a tone so cold it no longer sounded human. But he was human, he might be able to fool them, he might even be able to fool himself. But he could not fool her.

“Well so, do I!” she replied, feeling her heart batter violently against her ribcage. Leaning closer she somehow found his face in the darkness, her own almost pressing up against the metal of his mask.

“And so, do the millions suffering beneath your rule. Insignificant, and worthless to you perhaps. But I remember a time when you were brave enough to give a damn,” she snapped.

He met her halfway, if not for the mask their noses would have touched. But she didn’t back down.

“And tell me, what was my reward for giving a damn?” he said icily, “What did I gain from playing the councils fool? Respect? A place to belong? They always hated me, and you know it.”

She let out a harsh laugh. Twisting from free from his grip, she found his hood. Forcefully she pulled it down, exposing him. “So instead, you decided to play his fool instead. Great work Anakin.”

He drew in a sharp breath. The first frisson of fear managed to cut through her rage. But it was too late to turn back now. Besides what did it matter? She was doomed anyway. Edging sideways she felt around on the nightstand for the lamp. She would not let him hide anymore, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

“Don’t.”

She heard the harsh edge to his voice, the warning beneath it clear. But this time, let him be the one to know how it felt to be ignored. Undeterred she continued her search.

“Or what? You will break your promise so soon? That’s a record, even for you,” she said dryly.

“I told you, I meant what I said.”

“You probably did, I’ll concede to that. However, you meant it last time as well. Yet here we are,” she replied. Her hand moved, and now she could feel the base of the lamp. When she caught it, aiming for the switch, she lunged forward, but he was on her in an instant, pinning her to the bed.

“I said don’t,” he said darkly into her ear. Struggling, she tried to push him off. But his grip was like a vice.

“Get off me,” she spat, her blood humming at his proximity. She pushed against him again, swallowing a sob. Torn between terror and wanting to throw herself forward and bury her face in his neck. The last place in the galaxy she remembered feeling truly safe. _Safe._ All she wanted was to feel safe, to know the twins where safe. But there was no safety in his embrace.

As if sensing her fear, his grip lessened, although he didn’t let her go. Even with her head buzzing from his closeness, she still heard the lamp clattered to the floor, shattering into pieces. But she hadn’t moved, and neither had he. But then again, he didn’t have to.

“You coward,” she hissed up at him, before giving him another hard shove, “And let me go, I don’t want you touching me. In fact, I don’t want you anywhere near me,” she lied to him, to herself.

Then he did release her, sitting back up. Quickly she followed. The movement caused her hip to bump into the nightstand.  Reaching out a hand to steady herself, her hand caught on something. It was the water glass. Grasping at the smooth edge she lifted it. For a moment, she felt tempted to throw it at him, childish as that was. Was this, what he had reduced her to?

“Go on then,” he told her.

She startled. “Can you _see_ me?”

“No. “

She hesitated, not sure she believed him.

“However, you need something a bit more efficient, if you intend to kill me,” he drawled on, “That would at best give me a headache.”

Feeling suddenly foolish she slammed the glass down onto the nightstand. It rolled off, crashing to the floor, to share the fate of the lamp. Shattered into a thousand pieces, just like their marriage.

He shuffled around in the dark, before pressing a cold metal cylinder into her palm.

“Here, that should do the trick. Though make sure to aim for the neck. A quick slice should suffice. Then you would finally be free of _me_.”

Shocked, her hand tightened reflexively around the hilt, the grooves digging into her skin. It felt heavy.

Right after Mustafar, night after night, she had held Anakin’s lighsaber just like this. Until she knew ever groove, every scratch. Vison blurred by tears she had switched the beam on, then off. Then back on again. Looking for answer within the blue glow. Answers to why. But the answers never came. And one day, for her own sanity’s sake, she had picked it up for the last time.  And then left it in a drawer to collect dust. Much like her own heart. In the end, it had been just another empty promise.

She hadn’t touched it since.

Now, her fingers grazed the grooves of Vader’s lightsaber, finding the switch easily. Finger poised on the release, she hesitated, looking over at where she knew he sat in the darkness, heart pounding. She knew what she should do. For the twins. For herself, for everyone. But most of all, for Anakin’s sake, she should end it. End his suffering. For he was suffering, she knew that now. Somewhere buried beneath it all, he wanted to die. And that broke her heart all over again.

Turning the saber sideways, she pressed down with unsteady fingers, feeling the button give way. In an instant, the blade hissed to life, surrounding them in an eerie red glow. Still, his face was hidden in the shadows.

“Is that easy, is it?” she asked harshly, swinging the lightsaber through the air between them, “With one flick, you decide who lives and who dies?”

“Only those who fail me.” Came his quiet reply.

“More likely those who fail _him,_ or has the nerve to get in his way. Or _yours_.”

Moving closer to him, she lifted the weapon higher, illuminating him at last. Though the muted red glow, made him hard to truly distinguish. Still, she would have known his face anywhere, even though his mask covered the most of it, including his nose. With the hood lowered, she could see that the dark golden locks of his hair were all gone.

It hit her harder then she had thought it would. Because it was such a shallow petty thing, in the grand scheme of it all. Yet, once so long ago, she had loved running her fingers through the soft silky strands. Sometimes using them, to pull him down to her for a kiss. And he would always oblige her. Then he had come to her so gently for someone so large, so powerful, his light blue eyes sparkling in delight.

She lifted her free hand towards Vader’s face, and their eyes finally met. Although whether his were blue or not, she could not tell. For a moment, her hand hung still in the air between them, like an unspoken question. When he made no signs to move away, she braved the distance, touching his face with trembling fingers. Trembling from rage, from fear, it was hard to tell. And in the end, it didn’t really matter.

Easily she found his scar. Even years later she remembered exactly where it was. Knew every groove, the slight indentation it made into his flesh. Her own terror at realising how close he had come to losing his head. Carefully she traced its path, past his eye, to where it restarted just below his brow, following it to the very end.

Their gazes still locked, she traced an unsteady path from the scar she knew so well, and across his forehead. He closed his eyes, subtly leaning into her touch. For a moment, it felt like she couldn’t breathe.

That’s when she noticed it, the new scar. Ugly and ragged it cut into his skull. She gasped, nearly dropping the lightsaber. She didn’t cry, she _would_ not cry.

His eyes flew open, holding her captive, “Am I so hideous then?” he asked.

Yes, she almost said out loud. But not for the reasons he might think. Cruelty, she chewed on it, testing it on for size, finding it just didn’t fit. Unable to help herself she touched the scar then, wincing at its harsh edges. He sat there still as she continued her exploration. Feeling the bristles of hair scratch her skin, surprised her.

“This,” she lifted his head gently, thumb on his mask, fingers on his skin.  “Your beautiful face. That is not why I loved you.”

Dropping her hand, she pressed it against his chest, just above his heart. She couldn’t feel the heartbeat through the leather. “But this was. And here is where the true horror really lies.”

He looked down at her hand, “At there is my answer then,” he murmured.

The old urge to comfort rose in her throat, she wanted to ease his pain. It was second nature. Yet she held it back, instead staring at the blade, until its red gleam almost blinded her.

“Would you actually let me, do it?” she whispered.

When he gazed at her again, his eyes reflected the red glow of the blade. Making them crimson orbs in the dark. Yet they revealed none of their secrets.

He moved slowly, his gloved hand enclosing hers on the hilt, “Remember what I told you Padme. To survive here, you must be ruthless. And it is rather easy when you put your mind to it,” he said, pulling the blade closer to his neck. “A little closer, and all you need to do is twist.”

It was not really an answer. She had wanted him to say no she realised. And not hang this decision on her shoulders. Pulling lightly on her wrist, he shifted the angle of the lightsaber, to where his armour met flesh. Horrified she resisted, pulling back on instinct, dragging the weapon safely out of his reach.

“Don’t.”

“Why the hesitation Padme? If you truly think I brought you here to _torture_ you, it shouldn’t be a hard choice, now should it?” he replied, clearly angry, but she got the feeling it wasn’t with her, “You think I wish to kill you, that _I_ wish to hurt you. But the opposite is true is not? If you were planning to bring down the Empire, you had to be planning on killing me. Siding with them, means condemning me, as you well know. So, go ahead, finish it. You will not get another chance at this, I assure you. “

“You condemned yourself,” she replied stiffly, gripping the hilt harder within her sweaty palm. “And yes, I want the Empire to fall, I don’t deny that. But you are wrong about one thing, I am no one’s assassin. Certainly, not yours.”

He shrugged, “But that’s not what they would call you, now is it? No, they would call you a hero. Or a liberator even. Surely it would be worth it, to rid the galaxy of _me_.”

Though his words had been cool, there was a hint of sadness hidden somewhere beneath the bravado. Her entire hand was trembling now, fatigued muscles aching from the strain of holding the lightsaber aloft.

“Let me leave this room alive, and I will kill again,” he added, taunting her. Stating the words as fact, because that’s what they were, and they both knew it.

But although she might not know who he was anymore, she still knew herself. “I am not an executioner.”

 “So even if you could save millions by killing one, even in cold blood, you wouldn’t do it?”

At that she hesitated, and he leaned closer. Now what little she could see of his face didn’t resemble Anakin at all anymore. There was a hard glint in his amber eyes. It nearly made her flinch. But not because of his scars.

He cocked his head, “So if not me, then what if it was the Emperor at your blade?” he asked almost casually, yet watching her intently. “Would you do it then?”

Some many images flowed through her mind as he spoke; Her, a young and frightened queen, moving for a vote of no confidence in chancellor Valorum. Which eventually led to Palpatine’s election as the new chancellor. All as he had planned, no doubt.  Vader screaming at her on Mustafar. Palpatine, that faithful day in the senate, declaring his Empire. Ruining everything. Ruining _them_. Vader carrying Luke away, both lost to the darkness, lost to her. And all of it, was Palpatine’s _fault_.

Her hand kept shaking, and no longer could she pretend it was from fatigue.

“Or will you be like the Jedi? Conveniently hoping the enemy would do you the favour of dying on the battlefield, so you don’t have to do the dirty work of an execution.  Although…” he mused, leaning back into the shadows, “I do suppose they did try to assassinate Count Dooku. I’ll give them that.”

“What?” she blurted out in genuine surprise.

“Ah, yes you didn’t know that did you...”

“I don’t believe you,” she protested, “Assassinations were not the Jedi way.” Taking a deep breath, she stared at the saber again.  It was not her way either. Realising that steadied her hand at last.

“The Jedi were not who you think they were Padme,” he said, sounding almost triumphant at his revelation, “And I assure you, the council did order Count Dooku’s execution. But they failed at that, as they failed at everything else. “

She could not deny the slight of hint of doubt from forming in her mind, but she refused to let him unbalance her again, “If I didn’t know, is because you didn’t tell me Anakin. And even if that’s was true. They would have been wrong. Killing Dooku would not have ended the war.”

“Killing him _did_ end the war.”

She should have known he would get defensive at that, after all he was the one that had delivered the killing blow. She shook her head at him, “No, the war only ended because Palpatine wanted it to end. He, the one who caused it in the first place. Surely you must know that by now?”

“It doesn’t matter who started it, what matter is that’s it’s _over_ ,” he snapped, clearly unhappy with the subject.

This time, she was the one that leaned closer. “It _ended_ because Palpatine had the people just where he wanted them. Tired of war. Frightened enough to sell their freedom for safety.  Only to find out too late, that they had all been duped. And now the question remains; What do you do, after you have sold yourself in fear, only to find, that there is no way out?”

When his red tinted eyes met hers again, the steel in them was gone. He stared at her, now eyes wide, making him look just a young as he was. He bent his head. But the show of vulnerability was over in an instant, and when he looked up again, his eyes were cold.

” So, mercy, it is then.”

“Mercy? Hardly, I think the true punishment would be to let you live.” Extinguishing the blade, she threw it at him. Plunging the room back into darkness. Hiding the sadness, he must surely see on her face.

“Here have it back. Because unlike you, Lord _Vader,_ I don’t kill my problems.”

“Well perhaps you should. It might actually solve them for once. Because there is no way out of this without killing. Not for either of us. You’ll see that soon enough,” he said quietly, and she heard him clip the lightsaber back to his belt.

“You mistake me, on purpose. Or have you forgotten that we fought side by side during the war many times you and me?” she told him, “I both can and will defend myself when needed. But killing in battle, is not the same as a cold execution of an unarmed, or an innocent. And you know it.”

She felt as his weight lifted from the mattress, as he rose, “Lie to me if you wish Padme. But we both know you would kill him given half the chance. If not for your own sake, you would for Luke’s.”

Would she? Wouldn’t she do anything for Luke? For Leia? For _him_? It hadn’t failed to escape her notice, that he had not included himself in that sentiment. Probably, she admitted, but then again Palpatine was never defenceless. Killing him would not be an execution, it would be self-defence. Besides it was pointless to contemplate, she didn’t have the power needed for such an act. So why ask?

It hit her then, as she heard him start to walk away. “Don’t think I don’t know what you are trying to do,” she called after him, “You are trying to make me, and everyone else do terrible things, to justify your own abhorrent moral choices. To make us all as bad as you are. Would that make it easier I wonder?”

He didn’t respond to her accusation. A beam of light flooded the room as he opened the door, outlining him in the doorway. The hood back up, his back to her.

She rose to her feet, her barefeet barely avoiding the shattered glass, “Fine don’t answer. But at least tell me this. Did you get the answer you were looking for?”

He turned back around, face hidden within the hood, “No, just more questions.”

There was something about the way he said it that unsettled her. She narrowed her eyes, “There is something you aren’t telling me isn’t there?”

“Nothing you need worry about. I will protect you. I will keep you safe. At any cost.”

There was no hesitation in his voice now, no trace of weakness. This what not the voice of the man that said her name like a caress. This was someone else entirely. And this man terrified her.

“That’s what I am afraid of,” she whispered, sinking back down on to the bed. When she looked back up again, he was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this chapter was hell, so many edits. So I just had to stop myself. So here it goes:)  
> A few things:  
> The mask he is wearing, those of you that have watched captain America, think something like the winter soldier style. And yes he is bald, but not completely. And he has eyebrows. But still has that ugly scar. More on that later.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry for the long wait, I have been sick so no energy to write. No Padme in this one I am afraid. I felt I had to write about Palpatine and Vader as well, and it became quite a lot longer then intended. Oh well. Next update will be shorter so will not take as long.

As soon as they spotted Vader walking down the hallway, the senators and their aids quickly fled to their offices, or suddenly found other things to occupy themselves with.

Vader sneered in contempt. Cowards, the whole miserable lot of them. All they did, was spend their days, desperately clinging to the last vestige of power they possessed. Which was little more than what the Emperor saw fit to grant them. Well, let them cling to their delusions. He couldn’t care less about them. Or what they thought of him. In fact, their opinions were just as irrelevant as they were. Or at least soon would be.

Yet, as he watched them scatter before him, he could not help but feel a growing sense of disquiet. Of restlessness, and the sooner he could get away from the senate the better.

Striding down the now near abandoned hallway, he absently found his gaze drawn to the carpet. It was a deep dark shade of red. Red like everything else in his life. Red like blood, like fire. He grimaced. Usually any thought of the fiery pit that had made him, would make him seethe. Pushing back any sense of doubt, before it had a chance to form. But not for the first time that day Padme’s accusations echoed in his head. One louder than the others.

 _Monster._ She had called him a monster.

No one had ever dared say _that_ to his face before.  Though of course he had overheard the whispers. Seen the revulsion written on loyal and disloyal imperials alike, when they thought he wasn’t looking. He had never cared. He _didn’t_ care. If anything, it was exactly the opposite. He revelled in the fear fuelled respect his reputation granted him. Yet, her voice remained within him, incessant, unrelenting.

To his left a door to one of the offices opened, and a man stepped out, colliding with his shoulder, before jumping back with a pathetic squeak of fright. A selection of data pads fell onto the carpet, one even bouncing of Vader’s boot. Annoyed at the unwanted interruption he looked up, straight into the face of a tall, rather scrawny looking old man.

The old man stared back at him, mouth agape. Vader shifted slightly in agitation. At the small movement, the old man snapped his jaw shut, and slowly began to back away, almost tripping over his long robes as he went.  “Forgive me, my… my lord,” he stuttered, holding his trembling hands out in front of him defensively.

Little good that would do him, Vader thought dryly. If he set his mind to harm the old man for such a small slight, nothing would be able to stop him. He narrowed his eyes. But this was what people did in the presence of monsters, wasn’t it? They trembled, they cowered. Perhaps even prayed for mercy. But he had none. After all, what kind of monster did?

The old man continued his retreat, but came to an abrupt halt, when his back hit the wall. Longingly he eyed the doorway and his path to freedom. The moment he realised Vader was blocking his only escape, he swallowed hard. Fear deepening the lines, that were already carved into his aging face,

An expectant silence hung heavily in the air. As if all the creatures that had been brave enough to remain in Vader’s presence, were collectively holding their breaths. Just watching, waiting for his next move, their eyes on him, almost like a physical touch. Yet he remained completely still, the hiss of his respirator the only sound in the quiet.  Normally such terror would have brought him a sense of satisfaction. Yet clawing at him, from the deeply buried recesses of his mind, another emotion threated to resurface. One that had nothing at all to do with pride. Without uttering a word, he spun on his heels, and walked away.  He didn’t have time for this nonsense.

A quiet sigh of relief broke the deathly silence like a spell. It was so quiet Vader shouldn’t have heard it, but he did, and kept on walking.  

The royal guard had already arrived by the time Vader reached the entrance to the long gallery. On his approach, their long force spikes snapped upright and he brushed past. Inside, the gallery’s only other occupant stood waiting for him, beneath a large holo portrait. The entire length of the wall was decorated by row upon row of portraits just like it. It was a strange place to meet. Stranger yet, since Palpatine rarely ever left the Imperial Palace.

“Ah, there you are,” Palpatine said, without even bothering to look at him, “Come. Join me, won’t you?”

Vader obeyed. Walking over he bent down, preparing to kneel, but Palpatine waved him off.

“Oh, no need for that just now.”

Vader briefly hesitated, but obeying, rose from his half pose. “You summoned me, my master?” he asked, in a toneless voice.

 _Master._ It rolled of the tongue so easily. But staring into Palpatine’s wrinkled face, it suddenly occurred to him, how much he had grown to loathe that word. And in some ways, he supposed he always had. After all, he knew of none worthy of the title. The deceiver before him certainly wasn’t _._ He drew his lips back in a silent snarl. And _Obi Wan,_ well he was a different matter entirely.

Ignorant to Vader’s musings, Palpatine didn’t answer. Having apparently decided not to share the reason for Vader’s summons just yet, he had turned back to the portrait.  But that was not unusual behaviour for him. So, Vader waited patiently, if not a little bored.

Although he tried to keep his mind blank, it kept trying to return to her. And that was decidedly unwise in his current company. Not to mention a wandering mind was an inattentive one. Which he didn’t like. Yet, dwelling on certain aspects of the past served a purpose, when controlled. In fact, he often did it, using it to feed his power, his rage. Still the memory that came to him now, as he stared at his masters back, came unbidden. It was one, he thought he had manged to purge a long time ago. One from another time, another master. The first.

_Watto._

Anakin may have hated the toydarian. He on the other hand, reserved his hatred for the _boy_ , and there was power in that. So, for that reason alone, he permitted the memory to unfold. 

It came so easily, the loathing he felt for the pathetic creature he had once been. The one who had lain on the dirty metal floor of Watto’s shop, curled into a ball. Listening to the sound of fluttering wings, hovering somewhere above him. Body tense in anticipation, as he waited for the next kick to come. Sweltering desert winds would have blown the sand from the dusty street outside, into the shop. Covering everything with a thick coating of dust, even leaving small dunes on the floor, and in the corners.  The swoosh of each wing stroke stirred them up, pushing sand into his mouth, until he was chewing on the gritty corns. Yet, even as the sand started to fill his nostrils he refused to cough. No, he would not cough. Not until Watto was done. And left him there. Alone, bruised and aching in the dirt. Shame and rage pulsing through him.  No, he would rather swallow it all, than sputter sand at his _master’s_ feet.

“Is something amiss Lord Vader?” Palpatine asked, in a concerned voice.  He had turned back to Vader and was watching him intently, his heavy brows furrowed.

Vader immediately snapped to attention, pulling the rage of the past around him like a shield. Yet something else also remained. For although he might have abandoned all from that life, there was one lesson the boy had learned, that was still of use to him _._ A lesson Anakin had later forgotten, but he had not. And never would.

_Silence._

When the boy didn’t squirm, didn’t whimper Watto quickly lost interest. Because for Watto there had been no enjoyment in punishment, without the following entertainment of someone’s agonized cries. Vader rarely cared for suffering. Fear induced respect perhaps, but what he really required was results. So, he did now, what that boy had done then, he offered no complaint.

“No, master,” he replied with a slight inclination of his helmet.

Palpatine seemed satisfied with his answer. Turning he indicated the holo portrait behind them, “Tell me, what do you think of this one?”

Vader studied the holo without any real interest. It was a portrait of a young man, a senator by the look of the elaborated clothing. He simply said the first thing that came to his mind.” Insignificant.”

“Indeed, my friend,” The Emperor chuckled, pointing a bony hand down the long row of holo’s, “They are all insignificant. But do you know why?”

“No.”

Palpatine lifted his head, smiling up at him from within the recesses of his dark hood. Vader had the sudden urge to bash the wrinkled head up against the wall, until there was nothing left. Nothing but a bloody stump. Sticky and red.

The smile beneath the hood widened, exposing a row of yellowed teeth. If Palpatine’s sensed his thoughts, he didn’t show it. “It’s because they are all dead, Lord Vader.”

Vader tensed, as the force whispered a subtle warning. But Palpatine said nothing more. Just started to stroll down the gallery at a leisurely pace. As if he had all the time in the world, and nothing else mattered. But this, them here in this very moment.

However, Vader knew better, Palpatine never did anything without cause. Suspiciously he stared at Palpatine’s exposed back. It itself was a taunt. A show of dominance. Palpatine didn’t fear him, not at all. Which only infuriated Vader further. But he managed to resist the temptation to reach for his lightsaber. Instead he made himself follow, and eventually Palpatine stopped below another portrait. It was of an old woman this time. Wizened and decrepit.

“It’s an unavoidable truth to life, Lord Vader. That sooner or later, everything dies. Either from disease, or severe injury–” he said, his eyes purposely taking in Vader’s armour, the implication clear, before his thoughtful gaze shifted to the old woman. “Or by the slow, ruthless decay of time.”

Lifting his veiny hands, he lowered his hood, exposing his own withered and deformed face. But unlike the woman, his age didn’t diminish him. When he looked at Vader again, his very being vibrated with power. A power that knew no age, no infirmity. Making Vader all too aware of his own deficiencies.

Grinding his teeth together, he remained silent beneath Palpatine’s cold scrutiny. Whatever game Palpatine was currently playing, Vader knew the part he was supposed to play in it. Obedience. Always obedience.

 _Beneath Watto. Beneath the Jedi. Beneath him. Beneath them all!_ The voice exclaimed bitterly.

A muscle in his jaw ticked. And for a moment he was glad of the mask, so Palpatine couldn’t see his rising agitation. But Palpatine had already pulled his hood back up, and was continuing his stroll. His cane thumping against the floor with every step. A silent echo, in a silent room. But the hunched form, the slow walk, was nothing but an illusion of frailty, a mask of his very own.

When they reached the end of the gallery, Palpatine stopped beneath the last holo picture on the wall. “In the end, all beauty fades, only then to die. As all things, eventually must,” he said in a deceptively soft voice.

Uneasy Vader turned to the portrait, but he already knew what awaited him there. It was a holo of a woman so beautiful, it hurt him to look at. A woman so close to his heart as any living being ever had been. A woman that was _his_ heart. At the simple sight of her smiling face, it thudded violently, almost painfully. As if to remind him that it was still there.

From the corner of his eye, he caught the Emperor watching him, a calculated expression on his face. An ugly suspicion started to spread. Until it became a certainty. Palpatine _knew_. Pure, raw hatred poured into Vader’s veins. Sending his pulse soaring, his heart pounding, as the force responded to his call.

Seemingly unconcerned by the dark power gathering all around them. Palpatine pretended to study Padme’s portrait. “Frailty is such a pity, don’t you think?”

Vader didn’t trust himself to speak, or even to move. The force churned around them, thickening. Reshaping itself, until it became almost tangible. Like a living thing, with a will of its own. It pulsed through him, crackling just beneath his skin. Urging him to unleash it. To destroy everything in his wake, to keep _her_ safe _._ Yet, jaw clenched tightly he held it back. Because he had not forgotten. How could he? Every step he took, every breath into broken lungs, was his reminder. That raw power simply wasn’t enough.

“A life snuffed out all too soon,” Palpatine continued, his hood shifting towards Vader. His sickly yellow eyes burning into him, past his mask, into his core, rooting him to the spot. Vader didn’t know how far they saw, or how deep. But their message was clear. _Know your place._

 _No!_ Something inside him protested violently. And before he knew what he was doing, he had taken a step forward. Chest heaving, white hot fury nearly blinding him, it took all his effort not grab Palpatine by the throat.

Palpatine’s lips twitched in a knowing smile. It was the sight of that hated, smug smile that snapped Vader out of it.  He took a step back, admonishing his own foolishness, he knew better than this.

When he had gathered enough control over himself, he could sense a new presence in the room. Turning his helmet to see, he spotted a vaguely familiar looking Imperial soldier heading towards them. One of Palpatine’s spies perhaps. Of course, he knew there were many among his own men, he was no fool. It had just always seemed irrelevant. There had been nothing to hide. Not until now.  Now he saw spies everywhere. Remaining silent he eyed the newcomer with suspicion.

The Emperor on the other hand, greeted the man warmly, “Dolros, did you enjoy your viewing of the gallery?”

The man gave a deep bow, “It was very informative, my Emperor.”

Palpatine smiled, another one of those fake friendly smiles he was such an expert on.  “Ah yes, a picture speaks a thousand words. Isn’t that what they say?”

After straightening his uniform stiffly, Dolros turned to look up at Padme’s portrait, “Indeed. And I particularly like this one. Such a beauty. Though I must say, it hardly does her justice. She is so much more beautiful in person.”

“ _Is_ she now, how interesting,” Palpatine said, not bothering to look at Vader, as he continued his taunt, “When did you see her, did you say?” he asked nonchalantly, leaning heavily on his cane.

Involuntarily Vader’s fist clenched. If Palpatine felt any real enjoyment in anything, it was in his games. And in this one, Vader had no doubt he was just asking questions he already knew the answers too.

 “I d–,” Dolros started.

But at that point Vader moved, making the spy stagger back a step. Arrogant fool, didn’t he realise that he was just a pawn. A soon to be _dead_ pawn. Vader moved closer, and this time, when fear flickered across confused features, he did feel a sense of satisfaction. This was as it should be. Let them cower. Let them fear. He lifted his right hand, his blood humming pleasantly. But a pale hand stopped his forward approach.

“Now there, Lord Vader, let the man finish.” Palpatine interjected.

With a glare, he shifted his gaze to Palpatine.  It was sheer habit alone, that had made him obey the command. But he had had enough of playing games, there was no point in continuing this charade any longer.  So defiantly he tightened his still aloft hand into a fist, eyes still locked on Palpatine’s face. Dolros head twisted around at an unnatural angle, with a satisfying snap, before falling lifelessly to the ground. But why Vader had bothered he honestly didn’t know. The truth was out, and some part of him had always known it would end this way. It had been inevitable.

Unclenching his jaw enough to speak, he hissed through his teeth, “You will not harm her.”

Palpatine looked exasperated. Staring down at the body by his feet, he shook his head slightly in dismay, “Lord Vader, I was talking to him.”

“Not anymore,” he snapped back.

With a quiet sigh, Palpatine turned away from the corpse to pointedly eye Padme’s portrait. “And as for Padme, have _I_ ever harmed your wife?”

The words hit their intended mark, making Vader hesitate, his anger faltering for a moment. Padme’s image turned towards him, and it felt like she looked directly at him, her eyes narrowed in judgement. But it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Because she was smiling brightly. For such a long time, he had somehow manged to make himself forget how truly breath-taking she was.

“No, master,” he admitted, lowering his eyes.

Palpatine moved closer, the darkness surrounding him so familiar, so intoxicating. Vader felt it envelop him, cradle him. Unable to help himself he breathed it in.  Because unlike Padme, there was no guilt within its embrace. Only acceptance.

“So then. What will it be Lord Vader? Am _I_ to be punished for _your_ sins?”

The question hung heavily in the air between them. But it seemed to have a power of its own, well beyond the mere meaning of the words themselves. Palpatine took another step closer, the dark haze of his presence tightening all around Vader.

Red started flashing before his eyes, making them water. He hunched forward as the stench of sulphur and flames, dragged him back across the years. Into his living nightmare. The one that would never end. Everything around him was a blur.  And slowly Palpatine began to fade, until all that remained was his shadowy outline, surrounded by a mist of crimson.

Vader blinked. And there behind the shadow, cradled within its haze, she appeared. Backing away from him in terror. Just like the old man had. Just like they all did. Everyone. But not the shadow. No the shadow remained.

As it had then, he felt his body move, carrying him along with it, whether he wanted to or not. Then it came, that word. From a distance, as if uttered by a stranger. By someone he didn’t know. By someone he didn’t want to know. But it was his lips, that shaped the word. His lips, that hurled it towards her. The word he had thought for so long, had been the one to seal her fate, had been her final condemnation.

“Liar!” he heard himself snarl, stalking towards her. As if she was little more than prey, something to crush. And not the woman he loved beyond words, beyond reason.  

From somewhere far away, he could hear himself still talking. But the words were just a jumbled mess, he couldn’t seem to comprehend. They were senseless, absurd.

Helpless to stop it, he watched as his arm lifted. Painfully slow, his fingers began moving towards his thumb, tightening into a gesture he knew all too well.  Reshaping the force, he felt himself mould it into a vice. Designed for one purpose only, to rob her of her breath. To hurt her.

“Anakin,” she pleaded, but her voice was weak, barely audible. Her beautiful eyes brimming with tears, she clutched at her throat.

Yet he held on, he didn’t stop. He stared down at his clenched hand in confusion, in disbelief. What was he doing? This was wrong. All wrong! Desperately he tried to make himself stop, to take it all back. But there was no mercy to be found. Not for anyone, not even for her.

For an instant, it felt like someone touched him. Whispering things to him, that ignited his blood, rekindling the fury he had felt at her betrayal.  His urgent need to silence her lying lips. After all, he had done it all for her, and this is what she had rewarded him with? With treason? What had happened at Mustafar was little more than what she deserved!

_No!_

The voice was shouting inside his skull, pleading for him to remember what came after the fury. The pain, the all-consuming agony of loss. The hollow aching emptiness, that no rage in the galaxy could ever fill.

“Liar,” the voice whispered silently. It took him a moment to realise he had spoken it aloud. That for an instant, the voice and him, had been one and the same. And this time the accusation had not been aimed at her, not at the shadow. But at himself.  

Padme let out a gasp. Again, he tried to pry his fingers apart again, to offer her release. His arm was shaking, but the metal fingers refused to bend, to relent. Though why it mattered so much to him that he stopped, he could not say. Because this was all in the past, and over that he had no power. No power at all.

_Let her go!_

Obi Wan’s command came from somewhere outside the red mist. And as he watched, his hand finally unclenched, and Padme fell, hitting her head hard on the platform. But there was no sound now, no echo. Just silence, the deep shattering quiet of nothingness. Of never ending despair.

 _No... Not her, anyone but her._ The voice whimpered.  

Vader’s head ached, so much so, he thought it might burst. Reluctantly he looked down at her lifeless form in horror. He had done that, _he._ Not Obi Wan. Not the shadow.

Guilt smashed in to him like a tidal wave. The sheer weight of it knocking the breath out of him. He squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could. But the image of Padme lying there as if dead remained. Forever imprinted on his retina. Forever imprinted on the tattered remains of his heart

_Monster._

Taking several steps back, he shook himself loose from the shadows embrace with a snarl. Instantly the vision faded. He might be a monster, but he would not be broken that easily, not this time.  Because even though the shadow might not have done it, he wouldn’t have either. If not for its poisonous whispers. Its lies. He _wouldn’t_ have!

Heart pounding, he glared at the Emperor, at the shadow. He wanted to put his bare hands around its spindly throat and squeeze. Squeeze until that smirk went away.  Until the knowing in those yellow eyes faded. The knowing of how the shadow had planned this all along. The knowing of how easily he had fallen. He the gullible fool.  Well, no more. No longer would he trust in its venomous words. Its endless lies.

“Is something the matter Lord Vader?” Palpatine asked, as if nothing at all had happened. His yellow eyes were studying Vader, their expression deceptively open and honest. Palpatine had always been good at that, faking human emotion, manipulating it. But he didn’t feel any himself, he never had. That had been the greatest lie of them all.

Vader straightened to his full height, towering far above his master _._ How he _hated_ him, how he hated them _all_.

“Trust is a lesser bond between weaker beings Lord Vader. You and me, we are symbiotic. Remember that, and remember what I offer you,” Palpatine added looking up at him calmly, “I did not harm Padme. And if you wish to keep a wife that is entirely up to you.”

As always, the lies so masterly mixed with truth, fell easily from Palpatine’s lips. But Vader wasn’t foolish enough to believe in them. With a slight bow of his head, he lied in return. “Of course, master.”

“And the child?”

“Dead,” he replied flatly.

Palpatine made a sad clucking sound low in his throat, pretending to believe in Vader’s lie. “A pity, such a loss of potential.” One bony hand reached out and patted Vader’s arm,” Well, perhaps you can have another. Although…” he gave Vader a pitying look, so full of fake concern, it nearly made him hiss.

“In your current situation, that would perhaps pose some difficulty?”

Every remaining muscle in Vader’s body tensed. That didn’t matter, he told himself. But he knew the truth. It did matter, now more than ever. That he was _this_. That he _couldn’t._

Ripping his eyes away from the Emperors hypnotizing gaze, he eyed the room, the walls, the doorway.  Before they finally came to rest at Padme’s portrait, her smiling face was waving down at him. There was a dull ache in his chest, near his heart. Momentarily he let himself drown in her joy. A joy he no longer knew how to feel. It couldn’t reach him now. And her smile had long since faded. This was just an image of the past. Like everything else, it too was now long gone.

_I don’t want to be here._

The unwanted voice whispered sadly within his mind.  And there was no strength in him left to argue. And although he no longer felt joy, for an instant he let himself feel the whispers sadness, feel it’s longing.  Before he had returned here, he had told himself, that he would stay with the Emperor to learn, to become stronger. Then in the end he would have his vengeance. But the ugly truth was there, and it left him cold. The truth was, he simply wasn’t strong enough. Not anymore. He was rendered impotent, in more ways than one.

Padme smiled again. It was that sight that finally made him abandoned all self-pity. All weakness. She needed him, and he would not betray her again. For although he might not be the man he had once been, one thing was certain, he would not let her die. No matter what. And to make sure of that, there was nothing he would not do.

“I have taught you much have I not?” Palpatine asked, interrupting his thoughts.  


“You have,” he admitted, chewing on his teeth, grinding them hard enough that his jaw hurt. But it wasn’t enough, it was never enough. Just like the Jedi had once done, he was being kept exactly where is master wanted him. Powerful enough to be useful, but never powerful enough to ever become a threat.  Outwardly he showed no signs of his fury, though he knew Palpatine sensed it. Let him he thought, let Palpatine feel it. And once when the moment was right Vader would crush him with it.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you have been searching for in that library at all hours my friend. But the Jedi will not have the power you seek. Only I will.” There was an increasing gleam in Palpatine’s yellow eyes as he spoke. The gleam of power, of undisputed victory.  “They Jedi were weak, their vision lacking. They sought submission. _I_ seek control, I seek order.”

 “No one hates them as much as _I_ master,” he stated. Feeling almost offended at the implication, he had no wish to return to the Jedi. They were all dead, had he not seen to that?

Palpatine smiled gleefully. “So, you do. And you have done well my apprentice.  And it’s because of your efforts, that we can move ahead with my plan unchallenged.” His ugly smiled widened, “To _truly_ harness the power of the dark side. Buried at the foundation of the Imperial Palace, there is power beyond your imagination. Power beyond comprehension. I know you have already sensed this.”

Vader gave a curt nod, not bothering to deny it. “I have.”

Palpatine paused, running his fingers across the base of the holoprojector of Padme’s portrait. Like a spider playing with its prey. Vader seethed, he wanted to rip them away. To break every single bone. One, by one.

“The Jedi foolishly thought they could wipe away the remnants of the darkness from the shrine, with their futile efforts. But their arrogance was their downfall, as it was almost also yours. But you know as well as I do, that what the darkness takes, it never let’s go,” Palpatine said softly

Vader yet again chose silence. There was no denial to make. He knew it was true. Willingly he had chosen this path, and he would live with that choice. There was no other way.

Patting the frame of Padme’s portrait one last time before stepping away. Palpatine’s yellow eyes sparkled, in some secret amusement. “The excavation of the shrine will soon be done. Then only with our combined power we can unravel its secrets. There are ways, hidden ways to undo what has been done. To make you whole.”

The words came out sounding just as the lure they were, Vader did not bite.

Palpatine walked around him in a half circle before stopping right behind him, speaking softly, “Soon there will be no limit to our power, to what we can do. Even harness the very power over life and death itself. The choice is yours.”

The last part was delivered causally. But sounded all too familiar. Vader control slipped, he swung around in instant, his hand already stretched out towards Palpatine.

“What. Did. You. Say?” he hissed, his hand itching to take that final step. To rip Palpatine apart limb by limb. If he had anything at all to do with Padme’s condition, Vader would coat the walls with his blood.

Instantly Palpatine’s deceptively gentle mask vanished. Anger taking its place, filling the space between them. The warning within it clear. They had been here once before, in this exact position. Freshly entombed in his suit, raw from the loss of Padme, he had lashed out in pure agony. But Palpatine had deflected him easily enough, and made the prize for disobedience very clear. _Death._

Still he didn’t instantly drop his hand, his flesh fingers twitching painfully. The sith always played for dominance. Palpatine had told him so himself. That one day he would try to kill him, like every apprentice would once try to kill his master, and then surpass him. Or if he failed, to be killed himself for his weakness. It was the way of the sith.

Still, Vader hadn’t known it would be so soon. The air crackled as their power brushed up against each other. Testing almost gently. Yet regardless of his raw power he pulled back. For it would not be today. Today he would play obedient. After all, he had grown good at it over the years.  And even if Palpatine was behind it, dead he could not protect her. Abruptly he dropped his hand and went down on one knee head bent, awaiting his punishment.  

“Forgive me master. And forgive the deception, she is uneasy, I only wanted to ease her transition.”

After a while a hand came to rest gently at the top of his helmet. Vader drew a deep breath, waiting for the searing pain to come. For the lighting to travel down his spine, to sear his skin. But nothing happened.  The hand vanished.

“Rise Lord Vader,” Palpatine said coolly.

Vader obeyed. They stared at each other, apprentice and master. Palpatine lifted his cane, clicking it against the floor. Once, twice. His eyes never leaving Vader’s mask. Then suddenly the anger vanished, and Palpatine gave him a sympathetic smile. Yet all it did was twist his face into something far uglier. “All is forgiven old friend. Now go home and tend to your wife.”

Vader bared his teeth, “Thank you master.”

Palpatine nodded and began his slow walk back towards the entrance, and the awaiting royal guard. After a while he turned back, as if an idea has just struck him. “Why don’t you bring her to the celebration? That would ease her concerns I am sure.”

“Yes, master,” he replied. The Emperor looked at him for a long while, before he began walking again. Vader stood there and watched, not moving a fraction until Palpatine had vanished, and he was left in the gallery alone. Why did he get the uneasy feeling, that this was exactly what Palpatine had wanted all along?

His tightly held control slipped. There was a loud crackling sound, and all along the wall, the row of portraits burst into sparks of light, only then to flicker and die, the circuits of their projectors shattered, crushed to dust.  He looked up at where Padme’s portrait had hung only moments before. Not even it, had survived his destruction. Her smile now gone forever.

He clenched his fist. He knew his own importance; his master would not act yet. But sooner or later he would act. And this time Vader would be ready. He whispered a silent promise. That even though Palpatine may not have been his first master, he would be his last. And this time he would protect her. Even if it meant ripping the Empire apart by himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ops just realized I should probably add something, I am not that mean that I made him literally ehhm.. impotent, so do not panic!!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not dead! I just have had a rather troublesome month. Involving a lightning strike. A broken fridge, dishwasher, tv, and worst of the all internet!! And trying to get this all repaired during the summer holidays has well, been challenging to say the least. Well at least I have internet now. So here is some silly fluff I wrote as a bonus for keeping you waiting. The actual chapter is coming up later today I hope.

Driven from her fitful sleep by the sound of footsteps, Padme reached a hand carefully out into the dark, grasping for the blaster she kept on her nightstand. Having almost been assassinated twice she wasn’t about to take any chances. Satisfied when she felt the cold hilt in her hand, she aimed it at the door just as it opened, and a large shadow appeared in the doorway.

“Padme.” It called to her softly. She sighed lowering the blaster. Anakin grinned when he spotted the weapon.

“You weren’t going to shot me, were you?” he asked cheerfully. A little to cheerfully, _considering_.

“Maybe,” she replied coyly, trying to hide the smile his presence always seemed to bring out. Even when he annoyed her, he made it hard for her to stay mad at him for long, especially when he offered her the full force of his dazzling smile.  She tapped impatiently at the blaster hilt. “After all you are _late_. “She punctuated the last word with the best glare she could possibly muster.

Unfazed he stepped into the bedroom holding his hands up in surrender, his grin widening.

She already felt herself softening, “Don’t try it,” she warned. “You are not getting of that easily.”

“Hmm,” he said sweetly, “Is there is nothing I can do to make you forgive me this horrible transgression, my lady?”

“Hmm,” she echoed, pretending to give the matter some serious thought, all the while keeping her face in a severe mask.  “I guess that all depends on what you are willing to offer me General Skywalker.”

Stepping closer, he sat down on the bed. His weight made the mattress dip, and she felt herself slip closer to him. Drawn to him by gravity. Or perhaps it was just his presence that pulled at her, like a magnet. The weak light streaming in from the door illuminated only half of his handsome face, leaving the other side in shadows. Yet the sparkle that shone in his eyes was all the light she could ever need. 

“Well,” he replied, “Coming face to face which such a fierce warrior, I think there is no option left to me, but to offer my complete and utter surrender.”

She leaned closer, just in the same instant he moved towards her. As if they were thinking the same exact thought. Their faces now only a breath apart. “Complete surrender you say? That’s quite the offer “she replied playfully, her cheeks hurting from the effort not to respond to his boyish grin. 

“Complete,” he whispered back, leaning closer, trying to steal a kiss. Quickly she pulled away, waving the blaster harmlessly between them.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she told him sternly, putting a hand on his chest she pushed him away slightly, “First we must discuss the terms of your surrender General.”

He held his hands up, “Oh, of course,” he replied, straightening in an instant, looking every bit the soldier. “Name you terms my fair lady, I am at your disposal.” With a mock bow, he indicated himself with a wink.

She coughed to hide her laughter, making his eyes sparkle even more. He was a handsome bastard and he knew it. Well, she would not be so easily swayed. Having long since but the security back on, she tapped his chest with the blaster, using the barrel to slowly pull his tunic down, exposing parts of his chest. Anakin remained complete still, letting her play. Because he was hers, all hers. She leaned closer again.

“Well having waited in my bed for _hours_.” She flashed her eyelashes at him, in such a silly way he laughed. When he grabbed the hand holding the blaster she could feel his laughter travel through the barrel, into her hand, all the way into her heart. 

“All _alone_ ,” she added very seriously, struggling not to laugh with him.

He hung his head, “Its truly a disgrace to leave a woman such as you alone in a bed, “he admitted, doing a decent job of sounding genuinely contrite.

She leaned back on her pillow, studying him intently, putting the blaster back in its hiding spot.  “Indeed, and for such a slight I demand…”

His head snapped up. “Yes, my Queen?”

It was only then she realises she was posed just as the Queen she once had been. Stiff in the spine, rigid to the touch. She softened her posture, she did not miss those days, or the elaborate costume. If anything, they had made her back ache.  But although she softened her pose, she kept her voice cool, maintaining their little game. “But there are ways, I might be persuaded to forgive you…”

“And that is?” he asked, his voice a soft gentle purr. Having grabbed a hold of her hand, he was rubbing his thumb across her pulse, in small concentric circles. Making her body hum in response, and her easily swayed heart, began beating just a bit faster. No doubt he had noticed, because he was looking rather smug. So, little remained now of the awkward and shy boy he had once been. This was very much a man. One that was gazing at her with such passion, such hunger it made her want to surrender to him. Completely. 

His once playful eyes were now intense, his pupils so black the ice blue of his eyes, was all but gone. He only ever looked at her in that way. And it gave her a sense of possessive pride. _Mine._ His eyes told her. _Mine._ Hers echoed in response, and she knew he heard her, because his gaze grew even more heated, if that was even possible.

“And that is?” he repeated breathlessly.

“What? she asked in bafflement, having completely lost her trail of thought.

“You were about to tell what I could do, to earn your forgiveness,” he replied, looking even smugger at her lapse, turning her hand around to massage her palm.

Thinking about a Queen’s aching back, she said the first thing that came to mind. “A back rub to start with,” she stated.

“And…?” he said, massaging up her arm now, his finger making her skin prickle in awareness.

“A foot rub,” she added with a sigh of pleasure at the gentle kneading.  He really was very good with his hands.

His lips twitched, his finger now trailing across her collar bone, beneath her nightdress. “And?”

But she wanted more, she wanted _him_. She wanted to feel him touch her skin. Impatient she grabbed a hold of his tunic pulling him to her, as she lay down beneath him.  Eagerly he followed.

“You,” she whispered in his ear, his hair tickling her nose. She greedily dug into the soft locks, as he lay down and rested his head on her chest with a sigh of his own. He looked so peaceful there, so docile. So gentle. And all hers. Just hers.

“Mm,” her rubbed his head against her breasts, his voice muffled against her chest, before he looked up. “I am pleased to say I am more than happy to oblige to your terms, Senator.”

She giggled then, no longer able to hold back her mirth, and he laughed with her. Together they laughed, until her entire body was shaking, and her breath came out in ragged gasp. Laughing this way, was something she hadn’t done since she was a child, and rarely even then.  And these last few years, she barely laughed at all. There seemed to be so little to laugh at. Sometimes it felt like, he was the only one in the galaxy, that had the power to make her laugh at all.

She stroked his hair, feeling him breathe into her chest. These few stolen moments they spent alone together, was a haven. A place where she was just Padme, and he was just Anakin. Not senator, not Jedi. Not the chosen one. Not chosen for anything. Only chosen by each other.  His arms were laughter, pleasure, joy. But more than that they were simply home.

As if noticing the direction of her maudlin thoughts he moved, his body stroking against hers, until his face hovered above hers in the weak light from the still open door. She captured his face in her hands, as he leaned down to kiss her desperately. Capturing her breath as if it was his very last, he drove any thought but him from her mind. She brought her arms up and hugged him tightly. And for a precious moment, there was no war, no fear, just him. Only him.  When he finally let her up for air, his body hovered above hers, and he gazed down at her, still hungry. And so was she.

“I want that in writing by the way,” she said, poking him in the chest

He smiled, all white teeth, and passion, as one sly hand tweaked her nipple, making her gasp. “Oh, Padme,” he purred, “Don’t you know by now. You can have it anyway, you like.”

“Careful there Anakin,” she said pulling him down to kiss him again. “I might just hold you to that.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that took way to long to edit, because it is a bit to long for my taste. But oh well, I am done fiddling.

Standing in the lower hangar, Vader silently watched the bustling activity, hands hooked in his belt.  A sharp metallic screech suddenly filled the air. Vader jerked his head towards the commotion, gritting his teeth at the shrill sound. It was loud, to loud. Everything was too loud. Mechanic hammering on metals hulls. The endless chatter. The stomping of boots, as a constant stream of Stormtroopers past by.

One of them, halted just in front of him. Vader studied him coolly through narrowed eyes. Wearing his helmet, the Stormtrooper looked as faceless as any clone. But he wasn’t one, none of them were, Vader had seen to that. Those who’s alliance could be shifted by a simple flip of a switch, would not be permitted anywhere near _his_ wife.

_Hypocrite…_

The Stormtrooper started speaking, but Vader barely heard him. He shifted uncomfortably, blinking in the all to sharp light, cast down from the lights overhead. _Padme._ Just thinking about her, brought it all back. The scorching heat, the blinding fury, that had darkened his vison until he couldn’t see straight. But above all, it brought back the feeling of her soft throat defenceless beneath his onslaught. He bit the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw blood. He could still feel it even now. Just a little harder, just a little longer. And she would have been gone. _Forever_.

Agitated he held up a hand, interrupting the man’s never-ending litany of information. He had no need for it. “Just get it done, Commander,” he said tersely.

The Stormtrooper stood to attention. “Of course, my lord.”

“Good,” he replied, before dismissing the trooper with another wave of his hand. Spinning on his heels he strode for the elevator. Once inside, he slashed his hand down through the air, and the door slammed shut behind him, emitting a high pitched metallic screech, that hurt his ears. But then at last, it was quiet. Then at last, he was alone. Sucking in a breath, he rested his forehead against the wall with a heavy clunk, tasting the sickly warm copper in his mouth.

_Stay her, and she will die._

Lifting his fist, he smashed it into the wall with a snarl. The metal gave way beneath him. An echoing pain travelled up his arm, past the point where his prosthetic connected with flesh, all the way to the tense muscle in his shoulders. But he didn’t give a damn. Pain was nothing to him. In fact, he wanted more. For pain, he understood. It was familiar. _This_ , whatever _this_ even was, he did not. His helmet scraped along the door, as he bent his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

_What have I done?_

It seemed even alone there was no peace. No silence. Agitated he forced his eyes open. The mask seemed to be shrinking, closing in on him. As claustrophobic as it had felt in those very first torturous months he had worn it. Then with time, he had somehow managed to convince himself that his living prison, was a good thing. But it was heavy, cumbersome, denying him his true potential. Denying him _her._

Grinding his teeth together, he lifted his other hand and hit the wall again, harder this time. The impact bruising his knuckles. It hurt, but not nearly enough. And the metal did not bend beneath his real flesh. It wasn’t strong enough. Yet, it could feel. He could _feel_. Right now, he just wished he couldn’t. Not _this_ at least _._ Hand still throbbing, he turned around, to lean heavily against the door. 

_Run. Just run._

Run? Him? Vader almost laughed at that. No, he didn’t run. Not from anyone. And besides, where would he go? No one would take him. No one would shield him. Monsters were left out in the dark where they belonged. He did laugh then, a harsh cruel sound escaping through the distortion of his voice modulator. And it was painful. He was glad it was painful.

Curling his upper lip, he stared at the fist shaped indentation he had caved into the wall. Unlike him, subtlety and deception was Palpatine’s true skills. Not brute force. No, he would seek to remove Padme using other means. Still, Vader had stationed twice as many men at every door, at every corner. Just in case. Yet, it brought him no sense of ease. For as Palpatine had so _generously_ chosen to remind him, his long claws stretched far. Even within the ranks of Vader’s own men. There was no one here he could trust.

Drawing another ragged breath, he pushed himself upright, and began to pace. But to his chagrin the confined space limited his motions. So, all it achieved was agitating him even further, and he stopped. Loyalty? Trust? Where had that absurd notion come from. He scoffed at himself in disgust, he trusted no one. Not even her.  In fact, especially not _her_. He clicked his tongue against an increasingly bitter taste in his mouth.

The elevator came to a halt, its wide doors sliding open with a screech, making _him_ almost startle. Admonishing his foolishness, he shook it off, and headed for her room. Trust, or no trust, it didn’t matter, he had to see her, feel her, touch her.

“Did you find it?”

Padme’s soft voice rang out from the doorway closest to him. He halted.  That doorway led to an empty room. And although part of him was pleased, that she felt confident enough to move wherever she liked. Within in reason of course. He could not help but wonder what she was doing in there.

 _Trust is for lesser beings._ Palpatine’s raspy voice whispered, slithering around in his mind, like an oily serpent. But Vader didn’t need the reminder.  Distrust, treason, _betrayal,_ were all feelings always lingering at the edge of his awareness. He wouldn’t have survived this long if they didn’t. No sith would. To them suspicion was _survival._ Feeling increasingly suspicious, he approached the door quietly. For even though the door had been left wide open, his still got an uneasy feeling she was up to something.  Plotting something.

 “I think I left it here somewhere. Just let me put the tray down and I will get it for you.” Alden replied, sounding rather cheerful. Yet how the Captain could be happy at all, considering his circumstances, was beyond Vader. But he was. Especially so, when his energetic offspring was around.

Vader looked around, half expecting to see the child appear at any moment. But she was nowhere to be seen. Although he had brought her around this morning, in some faint attempt to appease Padme. It had seemed to work at first. But then something close to fear had flashed in her eyes, and she had ripped the child from his arms, before practically shoving _him_ out the door. Vader still remembered the sting of her dismissal, how his vision had begun to darken into pinpricks. Here he had just been trying to please her, and she had sent him away, like some disobedient child unworthy of _her_ presence. Yet he had left then, not wanting to be around her, as the familiar burn of anger rose.

At that thought, Mustafar once again flashed before his eyes. For a moment, he hesitated inspecting, his boots. He didn’t… he couldn’t… Taking a deep breath, he exhaled, pushing the constant seething anger down as far as it would go. Not this close.  Not to her. Not ever again. Only when he felt sufficiently calm, did he approach and look inside. And there she was, standing among a large selection of crates, her long soft curls hanging loose about her shoulders.

Swaying he put a hand on the wall to steady himself, his heart thumping erratically against his ribcage.  And for a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. All he could do was stare. Just stare. He blinked in confusion. Like it just suddenly dawned on him. That she wasn’t dead, that she wasn’t _gone_. Not forever. He hadn’t killed her. Yet the guilt, so deep, so ragged, remained. Like another ugly scar, the deepest one of them all.

_But you could have._

He looked down, as the excuses that always used to come, didn’t. And he knew they would never come again. Around him the world seemed to be spinning. Yet somehow, he still heard Padme’s gentle sigh, when Alden offered her a plate of fruit. Saw her chew softly on a ripe blue one, as if in slow motion. Watched her tilt her head, to look thoughtfully up at the young Captain. That was all he seemed able to do, just watch. Not move, not think. Not breathe.

“I suppose it must be rather odd for you. To be caught in the middle of all this,” she mused, twiddling the fruit, in her small perfect hands. “From working on a star destroyer, to waiting on me all day, I mean.”

The Captain shrugged, “I would wait on a hutt, for the chance to be anywhere near my daughter,” he replied honestly. Then he winced, adding hurriedly, “Not that you are in any way a hutt, my lady.”

Padme gave a slight chuckle. The unexpected sound making Vader’s ears prick.  “Don’t look so horrified Alden, I know you weren’t comparing me to an actual hutt.”

Alden put the tray down,” Well that is good,” he replied, with a grimace.  “I think any woman would take offence at that particular _comparison_.”

She laughed this time. The soft sound trickled across the floor, until it reached the place where he stood, hidden. Beneath the suit he almost shivered. It felt like an unexpected caress. A gift. This gentle sound, one he had never thought to hear again. Unfortunately, it was over too quickly. Yet a small smile took its place. A real one. In the now. Not one from some forgotten past. And Vader wanted more. More than anything he wanted to rip the mask off, so he could truly look at her. Yet even if he could have, he knew in the very moment she saw him, her smile would fade. It would _die_.

Alden had gone over and picked up a small crate, and was now handing it to Padme. The movement was enough to break Vader’s trance. Suspicious he looked around the room, at the various crates and items littering the floor. What was all this?  Yet to his surprise, what Padme unwrapped was just a toy. A small replica of an Imperial tie fighter of all things. He wrinkled his forehead, relaxing somewhat. That was harmless enough he supposed, if not a little _odd._

She grimaced.  “No, that is not right. He is _definitely_ not having that one,” she murmured, before lowering the toy down onto the table.

“I spent so many credits, they gave me that one for free,” Alden said, looking around the mess of crates, blond brows raised, “But the other one should be around here somewhere I think. I just hope at least one of them is the one you wanted. Especially considering what they cost.”

“Well _I_ for one hope they were ridiculously expensive,” Padme replied tautly, a defiant tilt to her head, before turning to look in the direction of the doorway where he stood. Vader quickly took a step back before she spotted him.

“What do you think Thea?” she called, but it was gentle now. The way he remembered it. The way it should be. “Should we bankrupt the Empire one toy at the time?”

“Yes!” A tiny voice exclaimed in response, as a little head popped out, from behind one of the empty crates. Large wide green eyes scanning the room, before settling on the small tie fighter on the table. Clawing herself rather ungracefully from the box, the little twi’lek girl scuttled over to Padme, and grabbed the toy. Lifting it high over her head, she spun around on the floor her lekkus flying, squealing to herself in sheer delight.

Padme laughed again, the sight of the child’s innocent joy transforming her into the Padme he knew, the Padme he remembered. “Be careful you. Or you will trip over your own feet,” she chided gently.

Ignoring Padme’s warning, the girl continued in a spiral across the floor. Her line of trajectory leading her straight to where he stood. When she spotted him, she stopped, cocking her head to look up at him. On impulse, he lifted one finger towards his mask, asking for her silence. Biting her lip, she seemed to give serious thought to his request. Then having apparently decided not to oust him, her delighted expression transformed in to a toothy grin.

“Shush,” she told herself, lifting a tiny finger to her own lips.

At least he had seemed to have acquired the loyalty of a toddler, he thought dryly, as he watched her totter away, still clutching at her prize.

Not having noticed their silent exchange, Alden stepped over to Padme offering her another box, slightly bigger than the previous. “Don’t worry about her, she does it all the time,” he said, casting his daughter a fond glance, “If she falls, she’ll just gets back up, that one.”

Padme smiled again. The second one aimed at the Captain while he was standing there. That unfroze him better than lava could, red hot jealousy burning in his throat. For even though it was not the kind of bright smile she had used to give him, it was still a smile. And that was something she now denied him. Lifting a hand, he shifted his dark gaze to the all to friendly captain. It would be so easy, so very, very easy. He’d even make it quick and painless for Padme’s sake.

It snorted. _Kill him now, and she will not smile at you ever again._

Perhaps, but that didn’t stop him from entertaining the idea. Still, he lowered his hand back down. He would keep his word. For now.

” Well, in that case, I admire her spirit,” Padme replied, interrupting the deadly direction of his thoughts. Carefully she pried the new box open with her hands. “This is the one,” she said breathlessly. Her lingering smile, now bittersweet. Then gingerly, almost reverently she pulled an object from the box, turning slightly. Curious Vader stepped closer, but he couldn’t make out what it was from where he stood.

“I thought it might be, given the description you gave me. I just hope it’s the right colours,” Alden said, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Considering what it is, I have to say it was surprisingly hard to find.”  


“I am not,” Padme replied, clutching the item protectively to her chest. “The _Emperor_ would want any trace of that time gone. Erased from history. But no matter how hard he tries, he cannot erase it from the heart of those of us who still remember. Who will always remember.” 

Vader’s curiosity at last overrode his patience. Stepping into the room, he revealed himself. Legs planted wide to block the doorway. At the very instant he drew his first audible breath, any trace of laughter drained from the room. As if it could not exist in his presence. Instantly he saw the change in her, saw her stiffen, saw how her precious smile withered then died, the moment she noticed him. Although he had expected that much, it still stung. The child however, smiled. Giving him a look, that could only be described as adoring. It was absurd. And so unexpected, he felt a genuine pang of surprise. He glared at her beneath the mask, the foolish ignorant thing. Didn’t she know, she was looking at a monster?

Padme quickly positioned herself between him and the girl, as if to shield the child with her own body. But Vader had no intention of harming the girl. Facing Alden, he jerked his head back towards the door. Understanding dawning, Alden grabbed the child and quickly fled the room. Vader stepped aside only enough to permit them to leave. Alone at last, he turned back to _his_ wife.

“What _are_ you doing?” he asked sharply, glaring at her. How dare she hide things from him? How dare she smile at someone else? When her smiles belonged to _him_. Just him!

“Spying is rude,” she told him stiffly, blatantly ignoring his question. Lips in a thin firm line, she did not look at all pleased to see him.

Eyes still narrowed, he let his gaze travel down her thin form. When he saw what she was holding, his breath quickened, the past once again to close. It was another toy ship, yet this one was shaped like an arrow, painted in a familiar pattern of grey and yellow. And he would have recognized the sleek design anywhere. It was made to be fast, as well as easily manoeuvrable. And he would know. Because it was a perfect miniature replica of a jedi issue starfighter. _His_ starfighter.

Noticing his regard, Padme defensively clutched the toy closer to her chest. As if she was afraid he would take if from her. But he didn’t want to touch it. In fact, he didn’t even want to look at it.

“Although I am no expert on starfighters, this one is supposed to be an exact replica of yours,” she said at last, filling the silence. Her wariness slowly being replaced by annoyance.  Unclenching her arms, she held her hand out, offering it to him. Daring him to take it. “What do you think? Does it look like the real thing?”

She gave him no choice but to look at it. So, he did. Then he tightened his fist. It wasn’t like he needed to touch it, to get rid of it.  

“I promised I would get one just like it for Luke’s birthday,” she added, when he didn’t reply.

He reluctantly dissipated his hold on the force. Luke’s birthday. He hadn’t even thought about that.

_Liar._

Ignoring the small ship, he took a step closer. “When?”

She dropped her hand with an agitated sigh, “When what?”

“When was he born?” he repeated.

Her annoyance at him faded instantly, and she went pale, “Just after Mustafar. Only two days after the birth of the Empire.” Turning her face away, she shuffled her feet, looking everywhere around the room, but at him. When their eyes at last met again, instead of the accusation he had expected, all he saw was grief.  Endless grief.  He felt a tightness in his throat, as her pain reflected back at him, into him.

“For the first time in his life, I won’t be there for his birthday,” she said at last, and he couldn’t fail to hear the accusation this time.  Blinking back tears, she saved him from saying the words he just couldn’t speak. “But I thought I get him a present anyway.” She gave a small forced laugh, fingers nervously playing with the toy.” Foolish, right?”

Vader resisted the temptation to fiddle with his belt. Here he had been expecting treason, and all she had been doing was buying their son a toy. Just a toy.

Padme rubbed her thumb gently across the small cockpit.  “I promised him one of these last year you see. One just like his father used to have. But I couldn’t find one then. “

 He cleared his throat. Still even to his own ears, his voice came out sounding hoarse and pathetic. “You told him about me?”

His reply seemed to snap her out of her melancholy, returning some of her fire.  And the look she levelled at him incredulous.

“Of course, I told him about his father! “she exclaimed. Taking a step towards him, she pointed the tip of the ship, repeatedly into his chest. In to his heart. “What did you think I did? Forget all about you? Pretend you didn’t even exist? And that I hadn’t once loved you more, than I have ever loved anyone else. Except–” Abruptly she stepped away, snapping her jaw shut. Looking as if she was in pain.  “Never mind,” she added quietly, “What does it matter anymore.”

Vader stiffened, he couldn’t listen to any of this. Knowing she had been out there all along. While he had been here, all _alone_. Her words were pretty but meaningless. If she had meant any of them, then why stay away?

_You know why!_

Looking down, he eyed the toy ship with disdain, “You can buy him a real one, if you wish. A _better_ one.” Lacing every word with as much contempt as he felt. Because no son of _his_ , would ever be a Jedi. When he finally found his son, he would not teach him the outdated teachings of the long dead. Of the weak. No, he would teach him not to fear his power. Not to diminish it, not for anyone.  Instead he would teach his son to revel in it. And together they would be invincible. Because he would give his son what he never had. Freedom. And the power to keep it. That and–

 _A father…_

He sucked in a breath, the sensation burning his throat.

“I think he is a bit too small for that.” Padme replied wearily.

“He’ll grow,” he offered.

But she wasn’t listening to him anymore, her fingers now tiny claws, around the unsuspecting ship. “I still catch myself wondering,” she said quietly, “What if he had been borne earlier? Just by a few days. Could…” She looked up, finding his eyes beneath the mask, her raw pain pinning him to the spot. There was long torturous pause, before she cleared her throat and spoke. “Do you think….?” she bent her head, hesitating again, to his surprise sounding almost guilty,“ That just a matter of hours could have changed our fate?”

Another moment passed as silent as death. His breathing seemed to echo in his own ears, the mask keeping everything in, letting nothing out. Especially that. The what if’s. _I don’t know. I don’t know!_ Something inside him gave way, wanting to escape. But he couldn’t let it. And he didn’t want to think of such things. Still, he couldn’t go to the one place he always went when guilt moved this close to the surface, when the voice grew to loud. Into the dark oblivion of rage. Not when she was this close. It seemed to be getting harder to breathe, let alone speak. So, he didn’t. He couldn’t.

After searching his face one last time, disappointment crossing her features when he didn’t reply. Padme sat the toy ship carefully down on the table, turning from him. One hand resting on the table next to it, she slumped forward. Looking so small, so vulnerable. “Or had I lost you already, and I didn’t even know it?” she whispered.

Silently he looked at her exposed back. Unthinking he stretched his hand towards her, meaning to rest it between her shoulders blades. But he stopped himself half way, letting his arm drop limply to his side. Once he would not have hesitated. Once he would have immediately crossed the distance between them and wrapped himself around her, hugging her tightly to his chest.  Teasing her, until he coaxed the serious expression away, and that precious smile took its place. And if that hadn’t worked, he would have kissed her senseless until it did. He remembered loving to do that. Touching her. Making her smile.

But now? Now he disgusted her, he knew he did. His human hand twitched, and he stared down at the dark glove in confusion. And him? Well he had grown so accustomed to not to being touched. The even finding himself wanting to touch, to _be_ touched, felt strange. Foreign even. So, he just stood there. Just a single footstep away from the person he had wanted, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. And he found he didn’t know what to do.

He bent his head, tasting the agony. As always, the dark rose up to meet it, offering blissful oblivion. And this time permitted himself a little, just a little. She was _his_ wife, why should he hesitate to touch her? He _needed_ to touch her. She was his, wasn’t she? And he was here, he was right here. Grabbing her by her slim shoulders he spun her back around, lifting her of the ground as he did. “You haven’t lost me,” he said roughly, lowering her down before him, “Do you hear me. You will never loose me.”

She was limp like a rag doll in his hands. “Haven’t I?” she asked weakly. She seemed confused, unfocused. And he wasn’t sure anymore, if she was addressing him, or herself.

He tightened his grip. Needing her to see, needing her to understand.  “No.”

She blinked up at him. Cupping her head gently in both hands, he tilted her back slightly, so he could look deep into her eyes. Her living eyes. His thumbs caressing her cheekbones. The burn of guilt easing somewhat with every inhalation, drowning within his power. Exhaling softly, her lips parted. And that’s when he felt it, the first stirring of desire. He wanted her. It was unexpected. Unfamiliar, forgotten. All too human. In a flash he removed his glove, and gently pushed a lock of hair out of her face, twining a single soft curl around his finger. Before catching one small earlobe, playing with the soft tender flesh he found there. All the while watching intently as her throat moved, as she swallowed hard. On instinct he moved closer, wanting to press his lips to her throat, so he could feel her heartbeat, feel her every breath. Every single one precious. Every single one, _his_.

Her brown eyes darkened, and he could see the reflection of his mask hidden in their depths. Never had he hated his infirmities as much as he did now. One hand wasn’t enough. Lips wouldn’t be enough. He wanted to rip the rest of his armour off so he could press himself to her, skin to skin. As close as he could possible get. Yet, as he moved closer beneath his hands he felt her shifting. Trying to step away. To escape. But he just tightened his grip even further. _Mine._

“Please let me go, Anakin. Please just let me go…” she pleaded.

He knew what she really meant, what she really wanted. To leave this place, to leave _him_. But he would make her see sense soon enough. He cocked his head to the side, drinking in her flawless beauty. “Never,” he growled possessively.

With a defeated sigh, she ceased to struggle, and instead banged her head into his chest. Her movement had shifted his grip, so he was now cradling her skull. Greedily he dug his human hand into the offering, massaging her scalp. Then he tangled his hand in her hair, before sliding his fingers downwards, all the way down to the soft skin at the nape of her neck. 

Padme groaned. “Oh, you are cruel aren’t you…” she whispered to the floor, but to his pleasure she didn’t move away.  Instead leaned just a tad closer into his chest, “So cruel.” Her head twisted beneath him, as she shook her head slightly, “But this will not work. It cannot work. Don’t you see that?”

“Says who?” he challenged.

He heard her draw a deep breath, before she finally threw her head back, and this time manged to wrench free from his grip, glaring up at him. “I do. That’s who. And that is enough! Or at least it should be!”

Feeling deprived he went to follow, but she held a hand up, and he stopped. However, he only did so because she was rubbing her neck, looking as if she had a headache. Rubbing the place where he had just touched her.  As if she was rubbing him off. Like some dirty stain. He stiffened.

“Just tell me, why you’re here,” she said wearily.

He squared his shoulders, crossing his arms defensively. “Do I need a reason to see my _own_ wife now?”

Padme just shrugged,” Look at me if you wish,” she replied eyes flashing, holding her arms out to the side offering him a good view of her body. She was too thin for his liking. It wasn’t right, not like it should be. “It’s not like _I_ can stop you, is it?”

He sneered, resting the temptation to pace, uncomfortable at the ugly implication. He would have her, yes. But he would have her willing. Somehow. “He knows,” he snapped.

“I see,” she replied. Though she didn’t seem surprised by this, or even shocked. Just resigned. “It took him long enough.”   She sank deep into the large chair by the table. It looked new. He took another look around, at the half open crates, and new furniture spread across the room.

“I see you have been shopping. “

She gave him another tired shrug, “If this is supposed to be my prison, I might as well make it a comfortable one. “She gave him a cold stare, adding tartly, “That is, unless you object?”

He didn’t. “You can have anything you want. That’s why I have been trying to tell you,” he replied, slashing his hand through the air, for emphasis, “Anything at all. If you just– “

Her eyes narrowed, making them thin dark slits, with no trace of the tenderness he once remembered.

“If I just _what_ exactly?” she asked harshly, interrupting him before he had a chance to finish, “Give up on my morality? Everything I believe in? Everything that makes me, well me!”  She tightened her hands on the armrest, until her knuckles went white. “You might be willing to do that, but I am not! And tell me the truth Anakin, if you even know it. Is that what you really want?”

Was it? There was challenge in there somewhere. One he couldn’t quite identify. “It doesn’t have to be like that,” he protested, feeling his ire rise “You don’t have to be part of all _that_!”

“Yes, it does!” she bit out, her fingers tapping the armrest repeatedly. “There is no middle ground between what you have allowed yourself to become, and what I am.  And you have made me a part of all this!” She pointed an agitated hand across the room. In a gesture that almost mimicked his own. “Whether I _want_ to or not. And if you think even for a moment, that I will sit here waiting for you at the end of the day.  After you have been out there, doing force knows what horrific acts, smiling at you for _your_ pleasure. Then you don’t really don’t know me at all!”

Her outburst finally at an end. She sat at the edge of her seat, her back straight. As regal as any queen on her throne, and the look she gave him was cool, distant. It was not one aimed at a lover, at a husband, or a friend. But an adversary. It was the former queen that was gazing at him now, and he suddenly felt like he was in an audience. With his own _wife._

He went over to her chair, and gave her a glare in return, “I know _you_.”

Craning her neck, she gazed up at him in surprise, “Do you?” she gave a slight shake of her head, leaning back in the chair, “I am starting to think that you don’t. That you never really did. After all, I can’t find another explanation for your complete disregard of all that I am. My wishes, my very free will. That is, unless all I ever was, and still am to you, is a pretty ornament,” she snapped back.

What was this nonsense about, they had been happy, hadn’t they? He got down on one knee in front of her, so he could look her in the eyes, palming both her cheeks again. He had all but forgotten how to be gentle, but he was trying, couldn’t she see that? 

 “You are _everything_ to me Padme.”

Briefly she closed her eyes with a sigh, resting her hand on his, pressing his palm even closer. Skin to skin. When she gazed at him again, her eyes were bottomless in their grief. But her voice was bitter and harsh as she spoke, “Oh sure. Third only to your lust for power, and your greed.” Intertwining their fingers, she ripped his hand off. Holding it forcibly away from her face, before finally pushing it away.  “There is no place for me here.”

He flexed his hand, and rose to his feet, turning from her. Pushing his own bitterness away. The furnace within him grew, wanting to punish. To dominate. Clenching his teeth, he drew a long hard breath. Reminding himself that this was his wife. That he loved _her_. “He wants us at the celebration.”

“Does _he_ now?” she replied, her words laced with contempt.

Having successfully cooled his temper, he turned back to face her. She was resting her head, against the back of the chair, her eyes half closed.  

“Another one of his games no doubt.”

Her dark eyes flickered open, “So, you have finally realised just how outmatched you are by that _man.”_

She said it with such scorn he was taken aback. He had seen her angry before. But not like this. This was different. This cold detachment was something he had never seen in her before. And he did not like it.

“No one is more powerful in the force then I, not even him,” he protested, not at all pleased at her insinuation.

Padme just raised an eyebrow, “Well that might be so. But that’s not what I meant and you know it. It was not the force he used to bring down the Republic.” She tapped a finger to her temple. “No, it was his mind, and there I fear we are both severely outmatched. “She let out a small sigh and stared of into the room, adding bitterly. “After all he fooled everyone. Me and you most of all.”

He took a step closer, clenching his fists, “And for that he will _pay_. Trust me!” The words escaped before he could stop them. There it was again. That word. Trust.

Padme evidently thought it equally ridiculous. Staring over at the toy ship, she spoke in a cold tone, “Trust _you_? “she echoed. “Why should I trust you? It’s not like you trust me. What you give, is what you get _Lord_ _Vader_.”

He didn’t like her calling him Anakin, but he didn’t like her calling him Vader either, he realised. It irked somehow. Saying nothing, his own gaze flickered over to the toy, resting abandoned on the table. Once he had flown though the sky, through space, for the simply enjoyment of it. He didn’t do that anymore. In fact, he never did anything for the pure joy of it anymore.

“It as I expected then,” she said wearily, shifting in her chair. “But this leaves us at an impasse don’t you think? You don’t trust me, and I don’t trust you. So where could we possibly go from here?”

Her sad eyes were alert now, as if she really hoped he had an answer for her. But he didn’t. Because she was right, he had given her no reason to trust him. And if anyone had done to him, what he had done to her. They wouldn’t still be breathing. Yet given the chance, she had stayed her hand, but _why_?

Padme quietly rose to her feet, to stand before him, chin raised, “But have no fear, since you are so fond of bargains, I offer you one of my own. I’ll play your _obedient_ little wife for the time being, if you do something for me in return.”

He had to suppress a snort. Obedient, her? Since when? He put a hand gently on her shoulder, hoping to ease the tension. Or simply because he needed to touch her. Over, and over again. There was joy in that wasn’t there? “Well you are certainly little, at least” he said as softly as he could. Teasing. Trying to be some of what she wanted. But he knew it didn’t work, even as he spoke the words. He wasn’t that man. Not anymore.

Titling her head back, she scowled up at him. “Well you are too tall. I don’t like it. Another thing done to make you forget that your human. Leaving you up there alone, while we are all left down here.” She gave a meek duck of her head, “Beneath you.”

And there she went and ruined it again. Agitated he grabbed her chin in his gloved hand forcing it up, having had enough of this fake demureness, it didn’t suit her. “What do you want Padme? Out with it!”

She grabbed his hand, trying to rip it off, it took him a bit to relent this time. But he eventually released her.

“First of all,” she said firmly, “I want to talk to my parents. I want to be the one to tell them myself. _Before_ they hear I am alive through the holonet, in some biased Imperial broadcast!”

He nodded, “Very well.”

She took a steading breath, faltering a bit. As if she had expected him to argue. “Then…” she added eyeing him speculatively, before lifting her chin again, “Then, I want you to find Thea’s mother.”

“Thea?” he asked, momentarily confused.

Padme’s eyes flashed darkly, making her look utterly furious, fist balled at her side, “Thea! The little girl you abducted! Or is everyone else so little and meaningless to you, that you have forgotten her already?”

“Believe me she is a lot better off, then when I found her,” he snapped back feeling defensive. He hadn’t hurt the child. Why would he? She was nothing to him.

“She would be a lot better off if you let her go. Let them both go. The truth is out, do you really need a hostage?”

He folded his arms. “You have just assured that I can never permit them to leave alive. After all, you showed him a model of _my_ ship. Alden knows who I was, if he hadn’t figured it out already. Besides the child will help assure me your _obedience_. As you so well put it!”

She smiled at him triumphantly, catching him utterly by surprise. He watched beneath furrowed brows. What was this?

“Exactly, _your_ ship Anakin. And by the way, why do you care if he knows your real name. Why do you care if anyone does?” Her brows rose, “Are you ashamed perhaps?”

He refused to fall into to her lure. Of all the things, she could have asked of him right now. This was her choice? Well so be it. “Consider it done.”

Her smug smile faded in an instant. “What?” she blurted out.

He felt a small fall satisfaction at having surprised her. “You heard me Padme.”

She shrugged slightly, “I just expected you to me more difficult,” she admitted reluctantly.

Vader scoffed, “Didn’t I just tell you, you can have everything you want? How many times to I have to repeat myself?”

“Except what I really want you mean. My freedom,” she replied bitterly, resting her hand on the back of the chair, glaring at him, “And _yours_.”

“I am your _husband_ , not your jailor!” he spat. And he was _free_. No longer under the suppressive rule of an archaic outdated order of ignorant fools.

“Well you could have fooled me, because I can certainly not tell the difference from where I am standing. And in that case, would a divorce free me I wonder?” she mused.

That threw him of. “ _What_?” he exclaimed, dropping his arms he moved towards her. _That_ he would never allow. Not ever!

_Please don’t go. Don’t leave me here._

“No!” he sneered, shaking his head hard enough to twist his neck painfully, “No, just no!”

Feeling the furnace within him ignite, he took another step towards her. It was too dark, too close. Without realising it, he had lifted his hand again.  Padme stiffened visibly. And all though she hid it well, he saw it. Maybe to someone, that didn’t know her as well as he did, it might have gone unnoticed. But he saw it. He saw her flinch. As if she expected him to hit her. He stopped in his track, feeling sick to his stomach, his anger deflating. Padme just shrugged as if this was exactly, what she had expected of him.

“Don’t do _that_. Do you hear me!” he snapped at her, when he had collected himself. Letting his arm fall harmlessly back down. This was just how he moved, he had meant nothing by it. He hadn’t!

She eyed him in wary confusion, and he could not help but notice, she was using the chair as a shield between them. Even though she must have known it was pointless. “Do what?” she asked cautiously.

He drew a calming breath, trying to appear as unthreatening as he could, he took another step closer. “You are safe Padme,” he said, trying to infuse the words with meaning. So, she would get it. So, she would understand. He held his hand out to her, as an offering of his own, “I will never ever, harm you again.” And he wouldn’t. Not ever.

_I would rather die._

Chewing her bottom lip, Padme looked at his outstretched hand for a very long time. Still she made no move to take it. Instead she slid him another guarded look. And all she offered to his statement, was another sad smile. None of these fake smiles, the one he truly wanted. The one he _needed._ “I know you mean for that to be comforting. But all it does, is make me sad.”

He retracted his hand, his glove flying across the room, and into his palm. He put it on in harsh agitated movements. He was about done with this. “I’ll see to your request then, shall I?” he said darkly, before turning to leave.

“Just one more thing before you go,” she called after him. “Should I wear gloves as well?” she eyed his hands, adding dryly “Or use long sleeves with my dress for the _celebration_. Or perhaps you want me to put them on display?” 

Vader halted, and spun back or around. Padme had lifted her cuffs up to the light a defiant glint in her eyes. It was better that fear at least. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Thea came running back into the room, skirting fearlessly past him at high speed.

Eagerly she tugged at Padme’s leg. “Can I have a dress too,” she asked, with the eagerness and impatience of a child. He was about to snap at the girl for daring to interrupt him, but Padme had already crouched down beside the child, and was gazing at her affectionately. Something inside him twisted painfully. Perhaps it had been unwise to allow this. Seeing her with a child, was something he tried not to think about.

“Of course, you can have a dress,” Padme said gently, before arching an eyebrow up at him, as if daring him to contradict her.

He didn’t. “Buy her whatever you like,” he replied absently. It was not like he cared.

Padme nodded. “What do you say we get a nice coloured dress, to bring out your pretty green eyes?” But Thea wasn’t looking at Padme any longer. She was looking at him instead, eyes intently moving up and down his large frame.

“Black,” she informed Padme with a firm nod, in his direction. Padme glared up at him, as if the child sense of fashion was somehow _his_ fault. 

He addressed the child out of spite. “I think it would suit you.” The child beamed at him, Padme scowl only deepened.

Running into the room Alden cleared his throat, before scoping his daughter into his arms. “I am so sorry my lord. Um, I’ll just...” he said, while trying to make a quick retreat. At same time, holding on to his squirming offspring. Who even tried to touch Vader with tiny fingers, as Alden rushed past.

“Well, what do you know,” Padme said, looking slightly bemused.” I think she actually likes you.”

“She will quickly be cured of that particular delusion,” he replied dryly.

Her eyes met his with a puzzled frown. “I find that quite interesting.  That you think an innocent child is disillusioned to like you. But you actually expect me to love you.”

As soon as the words were out, she winced, running a hand through her hair. “No, Anakin I– “she began, but he had already turned away and was heading for the door. He was right then, he did disgust her.

Her voice rose in pitch, as she called after him again. “Anakin!”

At his back, he felt her look at him, felt something in the force where she should be. But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t pure and light, but dark and angry. It was rage and disappointment. Hurt. Rejection. He heard her call for Anakin again, but Vader just kept on walking. Because Anakin was gone. He was the one that had no place here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up. Padme gets a pep talk. Then I get to the party:)


	29. Chapter 29

Long after Vader had vanished Padme remained frozen to the spot feeling utterly disgusted with herself. She sank back into the chair, clasping her shaking fingers in her lap, cursing her vile tongue.. For a brief moment she had almost run after him. To tell him she had not meant it that way. That she _did_ love him. That she would always love him.

But she hadn’t.  She couldn’t. She _wouldn’t._

She dropped her gaze to her lap, picking absently at the dark fabric of her shirt. Inside her skull, her head throbbed violently, the headache she had been feeling all day growing more intense. Tough she no longer felt any pain, there was a deep-seated weariness inside her now, one she seemed unable to shake.  Tired she closed her eyes and drifted away to an uneasy sleep.

What woke her she couldn’t say, but something made her dart a glance up at the open doorway. Her heart lurched inside her chest, when she saw Vader’s dark form standing by the door, silently watching her. Ignoring a slightly woozy sensation, she pushed to her feet, swallowing down her fear, her anger, and other confusing emotions she dared not name.

“You came back,” she whispered. He didn’t reply, just stared at her, his mask giving away nothing. She bit her lip hesitating. She wasn’t about to apologize, that was going too far. But still, she felt she had to say something. “Ani–“she began taking a small step towards him, but he interrupted her harshly.

“ _Come.”_

The command, for it was a command, was cold and to the point. She gritted her teeth in annoyance at his abruptness, as he turned away from her with no further words. But this time she did follow him. Catching up to him as they reached his quarters. Inside the only source of illumination came was the pale light emitted from the half open dome of his mediation chamber. She looked away uneasily, almost bumping into Vader as he halted abruptly, pointing one black gauntlet at a large holoprojector, embedded on the floor in front of him.

She eyed it and him cautiously. “ _Now?”_ she asked in surprise.

He turned to face her, folding his arms, tapping his gloved fingers impatiently on one arm. “You wanted to talk. So, _talk._ It’s now or after I return, make your choice.”

He sounded agitated, and angry, and it didn’t feel like much of a choice at all. Still she was not about to waste this opportunity. She walked over to projector, drawing a breath to steady herself before she turned back to face him. She folded her own arms, feeling cold suddenly, as she looked up at him. He made no sign that he intended to leave.

 “I will be fine on my own,” she told him then.

The helmet shook down at her. “I think not.”

She sagged a little, battling the urge inside her to snap at him again, but thought better of it. Instead she softened her voice. “I only want to talk to my parents alone for a moment. Is that _truly_ too much to ask?”

Vader was quiet for a while, but she could feel his hard gaze on her. And she saw the moment he made his choice, he stiffened. “I either stay, or you do not get to speak with them at _all_.”

Padme suppressed a sigh, she should have expected that much. His was being petty, she realised. And she knew an ultimatum when she heard one. She swallowed the angry retort on her tongue. Instead smoothing down the rich fabric of her shirt, with a slightly unsteady hand, she straightened out any visible creases.  If her tenure as queen had taught her anything, it was the importance of appearance. If her father saw a trembling mess threatening to fall apart at the seams, he would never believe her. And she had to make him believe, there was no other choice.

Lifting her chin, she gave Vader a curt nod. If he thought for a moment, that him watching her was going to make her back out, he was wrong. “Alright, “she told him. Then she hesitated, staring back up at his tall dark frame. The pale light from the dome only made him look deadlier.

She hesitated. “Can you at least take a step back?”  He didn’t move. The question hanging heavily in the air between them. “Please,” she added more softly. Desperately trying to make him understand. “You’ll only frighten them.”

Vader said nothing. And she thought he would refuse her request, but to her surprise he obeyed, taking three steps back, until his dark shape was almost completely swallowed up by the surrounding shadows. But she could still _hear_ him. The rhythmic breathing. See the faint red glow from the panel on his chest. Doing her best to ignore it, she drew a heavy breath, and stepped on to the projector.  For once grateful for the dark.

Heart thudding, she kept her eyes firmly fixed forward, as a seated figured appeared in the air above them. Her breath caught in her throat, trapping an unwanted sob.  Though she couldn’t make out the room around the flickering white figure, she remembered every detail.  Her father’s large wooden desk, old fashioned, carved in an intricate pattern at the feet. The familiar scent of the dark wood, and the flowers blooming just outside the window. She remembered playing by his feet as a little girl, as he tried half-heartedly to work. Before politics, before war, before love. Before _heartache._ She dug her fists hard into the fabric of her pants blinking hard. _She_ would _not cry._ She couldn’t. No words would stop him then. Not if she cried.

The figure didn’t look up from his seat, toying instead with a small wooden box on his desk.  “I was told the Empire had some urgent business with me,” he said coolly, dismissively, leaning back in his chair, sounding uncharacteristically hostile. But then he lifted his head, and their eyes locked. She saw the moment it registered.  The shook written on his face. She opened her mouth to say something, but though she had a million things to say, a million things she wanted to say, no words came. Expect one.

“ _Dad_ …” she whispered.

The ornate wooden box hit the desk with a heavy thud. Squeezing his eyes shut, he remained seated. Then he blinked running a weary hand through his hair. Then his eyes never leaving hers, he slowly stumbled to his feet, “ _Padme_ … but you…” He blinked again, leaning one shaking hand on the invisible desk.

She couldn’t help it. The sob that escaped her then, hurt as much as it healed. Looking into her father’s familiar dark blue eyes, she felt an ache so raw it was hard to breathe.  She had never permitted herself to think of it, never let herself dwell on it. But seeing him now, it hit her square in the gut, a deep lingering longing to just go _home._ To sit by the lakeside watching the twins play in the warm sunshine. A place where they should have been happy, where they should have been _safe._

If not for _him_. The respirator was deceptively quiet. She lifted her eyes to the hidden shadow. Eyes fixed on the red glow from his panel. She wanted to rip it off. Throw it into the fire. Along with all his stupid choices that had led them here. To this living nightmare. Of his choosing. Not hers!

Bitterness and spite resurfaced inside her on a violent wave, and she had no strength left to fight it with. Him and his accursed _Emperor._ Just thinking of the _Emperor_ was enough to make her blood boil! But she stopped the thought dead, as her father called out for her softly. Pushing both Vader and the Emperor stubbornly from her mind she ripper her eyes from Vader. For the Emperor, Vader, they had no place here, not in this moment. It was hers, only hers. Hers and her father’s.

“Are you real?” her father asked, his voice a breathy whisper.

She took a small cautious step towards him, almost tumbling of the edge of the projector. For a moment she had forgotten they were parsecs apart, and that she couldn’t run across the room and throw herself into his arms.  And just for a little while, hide in the safety of her father’s embrace.  The one man that had always loved her. The one man that had never betrayed her. And never would.

Her voice shook. With pain, with anger. With longing. “It’s really me, dad, “she whispered.

Her father shook his head, his once kind eyes narrowing as he studied her intently. A myriad of emotions playing across his familiar features. Denial. Fear. Doubt. A fragile, almost threadbare flicker of hope. “But your dead!” he exclaimed suddenly. “What kind of cruel trick is _this_?”

Taken aback by the unexpecting change in his demeanour, she took a hesitant step back. “It’s no trick dad. I’m here. I am real _.”_

“It can’t be… It just _can’t!_ “he muttered, staring at her unblinking for a long time, his eyes blank with unshed tears.  That made her pause. She could not remember ever seeing her father cry. He had always seemed so self-assured, so certain. So _safe_. But back then there had rarely been a need to cry. But now? Now there seemed to be no end to the tears. She felt her own press stubbornly against her eyelids. Biting the inside of her cheek, she pushed them back. Because she couldn’t let him see her tears, for he would come then. And he mustn’t come. Not here. Not to this _place._

 “How is this even possible?” her father began, his voice thick and quiet.

Around her the lengthening shadows grew thicker. In the background, she could hear the faint quiet rasping sound of Vader’s respirator. She felt fear then, cold and clammy pressing against her heart. But not fear for herself, but for them, for all she loved.  

She took an urgent step towards him. “ _Please,”_ she interrupted him sharply. “There is no time. I can’t explain what is going on. Not here. Not now–”

She didn’t finish the sentence. By then her father had already turned away and vanished outside the range of the projector. She felt a sudden surge of panic, watching Vader from the corner of her eyes, she. Had he done something? Had something happened? But his large shadow made no sound expect his breathing. Arms folded, he only watched her.  She looked away, relaxing as soon as she heard her father’s booming voice call out for her mother.

Her stomach did a strange flip, when her mother’s familiar face at last appeared as a flickering image next to her father. She felt herself begin to break, piece by piece, into nothingness, her knees threating to buckle beneath her. Yet she had nothing, no one to hold to, but herself.  But it was enough, it had to be.

Her mother was dressed all in black, lines of grief adding decades to her features, not the short few years they had been parted. 

“Now why are you hollering like that, Ruwee,” she said, scolding her husband gently. Padme almost smiled at the gentle rebuke. _Now_ , that part she also remembered. But their teasing, even their arguments had always been at its core gentle, even loving.  Never hateful.  Never _violent._ Padme swallowed. Anakin’s face contorted in fury flashed before her eyes. She could still feel the tightness in her throat. The lack of air. The raw look of hatred in his burning eyes as red slowly faded to black, then into nothingness. She swayed a little on her feet, feeling suddenly queasy.

Vader drew a sharp breath and took a step towards her. She glared at him, willing for his silence. That just this once he would leave her in peace. If he saw it on her face, or plucked a stray thought from her head, she didn’t know, but he halted abruptly. Straightening she pushed the old memory away with a willpower she had forgotten she even possessed. Lifting her head, she smiled up at the holoprojection. Her face nearly cracking from the strain.

Her father returned the smile, if a little hesitantly. But that simple gesture, was enough to steady her, to keep some of the grief at bay. Tension left her muscles, turning a fake plastered on mask into a real smile.  Confused her mother turned, furrowing her brows, before at least she spotted Padme. Eyes wide she staggered back a step, but her father was there in an instant steading her with one gentle hand.

Padme’s smile withered and died on her lips. “Mom…” she said softly, not even realising she had stretched her hand out towards them, as if to touch, to hug. To _forget._

Her mother blinked. Stiff and uncomprehending, she clutched a hand to her stomach as if in pain, her eyes brimming with tears. “ _Padme?”_ she asked breathlessly, before casting a confused glance up at her husband. “I don’t… I don’t understand.” He hugged her to him.

The sight of her mother’s obvious distress was almost too much to bear. Padme dug her fingernails into her palm, wanting the ache. The pain. She didn’t trust herself. She had to do this now. Or they would see straight through her. “I know this is hard to understand, and I will explain everything when I can. But we can’t talk for long, not now. But I need you to listen to me. _Please_.”

Her mother nodded slowly, wiping at her eyes, but her keen gaze clearly said she knew something was seriously wrong. Padme hesitated, the truth threating to spill out. About Anakin. About the twins. About _all_ of it. But those words she would never speak. Not ever.

“Just know that I am fine,” she said instead, the lie tasting like ashes in her mouth, grating against her tongue. “I really am. But I need you to do something for me.”

“Padme,” her father began, his dark brows furrowed in concern. “Whatever it is, whatever is wrong, you know you can tell us.”

She ignored him, ignoring the wish to do exactly that, instead she straightened. Summoning the cool visage of the queen, she moistened her lips. “Not this time. I am safe, that’s all you need to know for the moment. And whatever news… “she hesitated briefly. Hoping her parents could not hear the sound of Vader’s respirator, or even know what it was. What it all meant. She cleared her throat. “Whatever _news_ you may hear from Coruscant, please know that I am all right. That I will be fine.”

Before Vader could stop her, she took another step forward, balancing on the edge of the projector. “But you need to leave Naboo. Take Sola and the girls and _run_!”

They looked at each other in confusion for a moment. “Well I suppose we could go to the lake house for a few days...” her father began.

“No!” she cried. The last words ripped from her throat, hoarse and painful. Drawing a calming breath, she steadied her rapid beating heart, knowing her outburst had startled them. She glanced at Vader from the corner of her eyes. Her eyes met his mask. It showed none of his thoughts. “ _No_. Not there... Not the lake house.” She looked away, not wanting the memories. The happy one somehow hurt more than the terrible one’s ever could. The memory of what had been, what could have been. Instead she faced her parents. “You need to disappear. Leave Naboo behind. At least for now.” _Perhaps even forever._

Escaping her husband’s embrace her mother took a step forward, holding her hand out to Padme. It was trembling, frightened tears stained her cheeks. “Padme, sweetheart, just tell us what wrong. Whatever it is, we can handle the truth.”

Padme’s throat tightened. She stared at her mother’s outstretched hand. At the tempting offer to unburden herself lingering there. Steeling her turmoiled heart, she ignored it.

“I _can’t_ ,” she whispered, pushing the words out, before she ruined everything by saying something foolish.” Please just do as I say. Just run. Hide. And stay hidden until you hear from me again. “ _If you hear from me. “_ I love you both. Always.” Without a second glance she took a step of the holoprojector abruptly ending the call.  It was all she had strength left inside her to do.

This time her knees did buckle, not caring that Vader saw, she sank down on the edge of the projector and buried her face in her hands. Unable to help her shoulders from shaking. They would do it, they had to. But perhaps it was already too late. Perhaps in this very moment the Emperors men were marching on their doorstep. To take them away, kill them, or worse.

Vader came to stand before her. His dark boots blurry in her vison. His voice was quiet. Almost soft. There was no trace left of anger. “I would not harm your parents Padme.”

She opened her palm, spotting the red indentations, she had carved into her own flesh with her fingernails. “Perhaps not, but your _master_ most certainly will,” she replied icily. This man her husband bowed and scraped before, would kill them all, without hesitating. And Vader, would probably just stand by and watch. Or worse do the deed himself if the order came.

Fury burned in her throat. Hot and unrelenting. Her voice cracked. She needed him to leave, now before she lashed out at him again. Before she let her anger get away from her. “Please just go.”

She swallowed a hiccup but didn’t look up at him. But there was no need. He was still there, she could _hear_ him. Him and his unnatural breathing. In, and out it went. In and out.  To her surprise when she spoke again, her voice didn’t tremble at all. In fact, it was flat, cold. Dead to her own ears. “Just get out!”

The breathing continued, he wasn’t leaving. With shaking hands, she pushed herself upright. He was still standing in the exact position he had before. Unmoving like a statue. If not for the rhythmic breathing, it would have been easy to mistake him for one. She went straight for him, giving him a hard push. But he was as hard and unrelenting as a metal wall.

“I said. Get. Out!”

“Padme, “he started, but she interrupted him. Letting go of him she took a step back.

“No,” she said. “I don’t want to hear you speak. I don’t want to hear you breathe. In fact, right now I can’t even bear to look at you!”

It all came out in an angry gasp. She froze, breathing heavily, once again cursing her vile tongue. It was poison. All poison. Or perhaps it was the part of her that was waiting. Always waiting. For him to snap and end it. For his deceptive gentleness to abruptly turn to cruelty. Heart thudding, she closed her eyes waiting for a lack of breath, or a blow.

 A blow that never came.

She opened her eyes. The mask was looking down at her, one hand lifted in the air between them, as if to touch her. “Your distressed, it will pass.”

She stepped back even further, making it very clear his touch was unwelcome, the hand dropped. “It will pass?” she asked dumbstruck. Was he mad? “No, it will _not_ pass. None of _this_ will pass! Don’t you get that?”

“ _Padme.”_ Something in his voice sounded almost desperate, enough so to silence her.

He put both hands on his helmet clasping it, and for a brief second, she thought he meant to remove it, and her treacherous heart sped up. But he dropped them again, and she swallowed her disappointment. Then she scolded herself. She should not care. He was dangerous. He would hurt her. He _had_ hurt her. She had given him a chance, a tiny fraction of trust, and as thanks had found herself on the floor writhing in agony. She owed him nothing.

But still, she frowned when he looked away again. There was something very wrong with his body language. Instead of strong self-assured movements. It was erratic, twitching. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was severely distressed. Moving closer to her, he hemmed her in between him and the wall of the meditation chamber behind them. She should have felt fear, but there was nothing threating or aggressive about his posture. Instead he seemed deflated. His arm hung limply by his side. When he shifted, she felt his fingers brush up against hers.  There, just a breath away from her he lingered. Twitching again now. She could feel it. It was hard not to reach out and clasp it. To stop the silent tremor. To lift it to her lips, kissing all his aches away.

To offer comfort.

But she didn’t. she couldn’t. She wouldn’t! Down that path lay only pain. Her pain. The pain of so many. Because of them. Of _him,_ and what he had done. Agitated, she pushed his hand away, when he tried to touch her again. “Will you stop that. I don’t remember giving you permission to touch me!”

He backed away, mask turning to one side, and she could breathe again. “I will make sure they get away.”

A dismissal because he had no need for them? Because they didn’t matter? Or a lie so he could take them. Hide them away for himself. Any threat to her family was a threat to _her_. She took a step towards him. “So, you can capture them instead, and use my own family to blackmail me? To control me? Is that it?”

There was no way the idea hadn’t crossed his mind. But he abruptly shook his head. “They may leave,” he snapped back. Straightening to his full height he looked back at her. Making himself bigger somehow. As if he wasn’t already big enough. She had a horrible feeling she might have gone too far. She staggered back, the dome pressing cold at her back.

“And if I am so repugnant to you,” he pointed to the door. “I suggest you leave, _my_ quarters.”

When he turned towards her again she pushed off the dome and ran.  Down corridor, to her room, pummelling straight into Alden as she went. He had been busy laying out a tray of food for her. Startled he reached out and steadied her. Laying on hand on her shoulder, his green eyes searching hers.

“Are you hurt?” she vaguely heard him ask over the buzzing in her ears.

She blinked up at him through her brimming tears. Tears she had sworn to herself a million times over, that she was done crying. But in the end, they came anyway. Unbidden, unwanted. She threw herself forward, burying her face in his uniform jacket. Alden let out a small surprised yelp, but he didn’t push her away. Instead he let her hold on to him, patting her awkwardly on the back as she cried, as she poured out all the agony and grief inside of her, with every tear, with every sob. Until there was nothing left. Until she was all cried out and empty. 

Felling snotty and awful, and not to mention mortally embarrassed, she let go taking a step back. But Alden said nothing. Digging through his pocket he only offered her a tissue.

“Here,” he said gently, pressing it into her palm.

She eyed the tissue in confusion, then blinked up at him. “You have tissues ready?”

He gave her a teasing but long-suffering look. “I have a toddler. I always have tissues.” Despite herself she laughed through her sniffles, swallowing a hiccup. Oddly enough, she felt a little better.

“Thank you,” she replied wiping her eyes, her nose, the mess that surely must be her face. Embarrassed she gave a small shrug, “And I am sorry about… that.”

“Don’t mention it, “Alden replied, with a kind smile.  He led her to her chair, seating her, giving her shoulder another gentle squeeze.

She stared up into his gentle face. “She is a lucky woman your wife,” she said without thinking. Strangely jealous at the sentiment. Not the man himself. Alden froze. She would almost have been offended at his expression, had it not looked so comical. She surprised herself by laughing through another sniffle.  “Please don’t look so horrified Captain. I am not flirting with you.”

He relaxed a fraction. “No offense but thank force for that. Besides…” he said with a fond smile. “One woman is more than enough for me. Especially mine.” His smile faded and slumped down in the seat opposite, avoiding her gaze. “Though I am not sure she would agree with you at the moment,” he added sounding wistful. Almost ashamed.

She frowned looking at his desolate face. She could only hope Vader would keep his word. Though she should consider herself luckily if he did. Especially now.

“Padme… “Alden began.

She looked up abruptly at the sudden seriousness in his voice. He was looking at her intently. “ Do you want my advice?”

 She gave a hesitant nod. He paused, yanking his cap off to run his fingers through his blond hair almost nervously.

“Look,” he let out a heavy sigh, “If I were you, I would run from this place the first chance I got. But while you remain trapped here, may I suggest you put your emotions aside and use you head?”

She blinked at his gentle scold. “He is my husband, I can’t help it,” she replied defensively, crushing the tissue in her hands, crumbling the evidence of her pointless tears.  “Every time I see him, I want to _throttle_ him.” Then hug all his aches away, her treacherous heart insisted. Only then to throttle him some more.

“Well there is an image,” Alden murmured looking faintly amused. “Still, while you’re stuck here, perhaps you should use all the tools at your disposal…” He raised an eyebrow, looking back at the door with a meaningful look, “Perhaps something or _someone_ , a bit more efficient than a fork...?”

Her eyes widened. “You’re not suggesting I manipulate him, are you? Because he would _hate_ that. He _hates_ being used!” It was only when she had uttered the words, that she realised how true they were.  She shook her head. “He has been used by others all his life. To my shame sometimes even by me.”

That last part was the hardest to admit. She looked down into her lap, at the crumbled tissue clutched in her grip. How many times had her actions driven Anakin further into Palpatine’s waiting grip? Unknowingly or not on her part, the result had been the same. It was only afterwards she realised how Palpatine slyly had offered Anakin a taste of power, by deceiving Anakin to believe he had any true influence over the chancellor in the first place. It was a lie they had all believed in. And in the end, they had all tried to use Anakin for that illusion of power. And to her utter shame, so had she. But had she known then the turmoil going on inside him, she would never have. She wouldn’t. Her voice broke, but there were no more tears left to cry. Not in her. “I don’t want do that to him anymore.”

Alden expression softened, his voice lowered as he leaned a little closer. “If he truly was the man you speak of once, wouldn’t he want you to? To protect yourself and your son?”

She sagged a little. It was true, Anakin would have. He would have laid himself flat as a living sacrifice for her. Walked through fire for her, not caring that it burned. If he had only known, she had loved him too much, too ever ask that of him. But it was too late now. Anakin was _gone_. Anakin would not have done this to her, he wouldn’t have hurt her like this. He _wouldn’t._

“Vader will only hurt me as he does everyone else,” she said bitterly, throwing the crumpled tissue onto the table. “You _saw_ that for yourself.”

Alden sighed. “I know this going to sound like am defending him. But I am not. I would never do that. But I will say this, though I don’t know what really happened the other night, whatever it was, I don’t think it was intentional.”

She scoffed, slamming her palm on the table harder then she had intended. It stung. “Intentional or not, I told him to stop and he didn’t listen!” Her fingers curled, her nails scratching the smooth surface. “He didn’t listen now, and he didn’t listen _then_!”

Alden brows drew together, clearly bothered by her words he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I saw him, Padme,” he said very quietly, frowning, as if he was picturing something odd. “I saw more than I probably should have seen. More than he knows. He was _frantic_. I have never seen him look so… _human.”_ Alden shook his head in disbelief.  “Hadn’t I seen it with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed it. In fact, I am still not sure I do,” He shook his head again.” And afterwards when you were sleeping, he just sat there. He didn’t leave your side, not even for a moment.”

_He didn’t leave you._

Padme’s treacherous heart made a soft little squeeze. She wanted to kick it. “That means nothing,” she replied coolly, trying to convince herself as much as Alden. “In the end he _did_ hurt me, and perhaps he did feel guilty afterwards. He does that. It doesn’t stop him from doing it again however.”

“I didn’t think he could feel guilty at all, about anything, _anyone,_ “Alden murmured thoughtfully, before looking back at her. His eyebrows rose a fraction. “But whatever the truth is, what other choices do you have Padme?”

He was right, she knew he was. She had to do something. Not, just sit here and await her fate. If Vader didn’t snap and kill her eventually, Palpatine would. Sooner, or later. Frustrated she rubbed her temples, feeling her headache coming back, anger and fear having momentarily kept it at bay. “I just hate feeling so powerless!” she admitted.

Alden leaned forward. “But that’s what I am trying to tell you Padme,” he exclaimed urgently. “That I don’t think that you _are_ powerless. _No one_. And I mean _no one_ , could have treated Vader the way you have, and gotten away with it. He is different around you, then with anyone else. And you need to use that for your own sake.” His voice trailed off. Looking away he bit his lip. “Perhaps even for all our sakes.”

 “I am afraid,” she whispered, hating herself for her cowardice. For this whimpering pathetic thing she had become. She felt weak, exhausted, broken.” Of him, of the emperor. I am afraid for my children. And I am afraid for myself if I stay her. That he will draw me into his darkness and swallow me whole.”

Alden kept staring off into her room, her prison, looking wistful, “Well I for one, believe the light is stronger than the dark.”

She cocked her head to look at him. “I am starting to believe you are a hopeless romantic Captain.”

“Me?” Turning back to face her, he smiled back sheepishly, but his smile smiled was tinted with sadness. Come to think of it, it always was. “Perhaps I am,” he admitted, with a shrug as he looked away again head lowered. Playing absently with his uniform coat.” But it’s better than giving up hope, isn’t it?” he added quietly.

She stared absently around at her luxurious prison. Once she had believed that there was still good inside Vader somewhere. Despite everything that happened, everything he had done.  She couldn’t pinpoint when she had begun doubting. When she had stopped believing in her own words. When she had stopped believing in herself.  But she was beginning to understand that was the true poison of this place. It slowly stole away confidence, faith. The dark leeching away hope, making her as bitter and angry as the rest.

“ _Hope_ ,” she whispered. “I fear I am all out of _hope.”_


	30. Chapter 30

A child’s high pierced cry cut sharply through the air. Huddled together in a corner of the crowded spaceport, dressed in little more than rags, an old gaunt looking woman clutched a weeping child to her chest. Judging by their worn clothing and the old woman’s vacant stare, they were refugees. Driven from their homes by the Empire no doubt. Imperial _peace_ it seemed, only affected the selected few.

With a weary sigh, Obi Wan turned away from them, letting the hood of his dark brown cloak fall further across his face. Hoping its shadows would protect him from prying eyes. Knowing there was nothing he could do for them, he pushed through the crowd.

Soon he found himself by the main entrance. Celebratory banners honouring the forth coming Empire Day hung above the arched doorway. The insignia of the Empire, black against red flickered in the wind from the open door. The brave or the very foolish spat on the ground as they passed beneath the wide arch. But Obi Wan only eyed the banners with tired eyes.

They were far too close to the Empire`s reach for his liking, but nowhere was safe now. He ran a weary hand across his chin, expecting to feel the bristles of his beard, but finding only smooth skin. “ _You look weird.”_ Leia had told him earlier that day, with a giggle. In fact, she had been giggling at him all day, since he had shaved it off. Luke had just shrugged and smiled. Mina had looked him over twice, saying teasingly, he was a lot younger then she had initially thought. Funny that, when he felt older than ever. Wrapping his cloak more tightly around himself, he headed out into the warm sunlight.

Away from the spaceport, the moon was mostly grassy farmland. The sunlit meadows would have looked almost peaceful, if not for the feeling of fear that lingered everywhere. That and the scattered groups of refugees.

Following a well-used dirt track, he walked briskly towards a large barn, set apart from the rest on a hill surrounded by tall grass. A tall lanky man with long dark hair, stood waiting for him by the barn door. Halting at a safe distance, Obi Wan eyed the stranger with distrust. Through the force he sensed no deception. But then again, what did he know? He who had been blind to so much, for so long. And as much as he was loath to admit it, a part of him still had trouble trusting his own senses. In himself. And sometimes, when the shadows of the empire felt to long, even the force itself.

Before he had a chance to make himself known however, Artoo came rolling down the hill towards him, chirping excitedly. Obi Wan relaxed a fraction at the sight of the little droid.

“Hello there,” he told the droid, as it gave him a friendly bump in the knee. With another happy chirp, Artoo moved excitedly from foot to foot, beeping some nonsense, Obi Wan didn’t understand. _Anakin would have_ , he though with an ache. Anakin would have laughed and petted the thing like an old friend.

Obi Wan frowned. His brief relief quickly fading, as the implication of the droid’s presence hit him. He looked up uneasily. Dressed like the local farmers, the tall man gave a nod of his head, indicating they should follow him back into the barn. Once inside the man turned around holding out his hand.

“I am Jay,” he said briskly. Obi Wan took it, giving it a firm shake.

“You have a message for me?” he asked.

Jay nodded sombrely, sitting down warily on a crate with a slump. “More than one I fear.” He gave the crate an angry kick. “I was with your friend when it happened,” he began. As Obi Wan listened intently to the other man speaking, unease was quickly replaced with dread.

“Is she dead?” he asked quietly, when Jay had finished his tale. Not wanting to meet the other man’s eyes, Obi Wan stared absently over at the various farming equipment scattered across the barn in different stages of disrepair. Having to deliver such a message to the twins, to break them like that? He wasn’t sure he had it in him anymore. It was hard to admit it, but he had changed. The ease of the Jedi’s detachment that had been so much a part of him for years, eluded him as far as Anakin’s children were concerned.

“No one knows, but that is the assumption. Though nothing is certain.”

Somethings were. It was only a matter of time.  Soon or later Vader would come for his children. Suddenly the galaxy felt like a very small place.

Jay leaned back against the barn wall, squinting as he tried to make out Obi Wan face, still hidden beneath his hood.

“Look, I don’t know much of what is truly going on here,” he admitted waving a hand absently in the air.” Secrecy and all that, the less each of us knows the better. It’s safer that way. But I do know _you_.”

Obi Wan arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Jay leaned forward, nodding. “Yes, I do. Bail told me to tell you, to stay away no matter what happens. To find somewhere to hide. And I was specifically told, _not_ to tell you this.” He looked up at Obi Wan thoughtfully. “But I am going to regardless.”

Obi Wan tensed. “Tell me what?”

Jay hesitated only for an instant. “There is another message for you. From Vader.”

Obi Wan instinctively felt for his lightsaber, tucked safely beneath his cloak. “What was the message?” he asked. Despite all his Jedi training his voice came out sounding stiff. Affected. More so than he would have liked.

Jay gave him a searching look. “To tell you to bring what was his, to the place where you left him. _Whatever_ that means.”

 _Left him?_ Obi Wan blinked, his hand dropping the hilt, its coolness burning his skin _._ _He_ wasn’t the one that had left. Anakin had abandoned them all for his selfishness. His lust for power. Still Obi Wan couldn’t supress the twinge of guilt deep in his gut. “And?” Because there was more, he knew there was.

“It was that, or he would leave a trail of corpses in his wake.”

“And that is different from now, how exactly?” Obi Wan replied bitterly. “Death and tyranny is all Vader knows.”

“It _is_ different, “Jay said sharply, leaning forward on his crate.” Because this time, he intends to start with Bail and his wife.”

Obi Wan’s shoulder sagged. Of course, he should have known. Jay looked up at him expectantly, and Obi Wan had a sinking feeling he knew where this was going.

 “Any message you want me to relay back? To Bail I mean?” he asked sounding hopeful.

Obi wan felt tired. Weary to his aging bones. “Tell him I will do as he asked. And that I am truly _sorry_.”

Jay surged to his feet, “And here I thought your _kind_ was supposed to help people. Not hide and cower, leaving good men behind to die!”

Obi Wan stiffened. “My _kind_ are no more,” he said quietly. Artoo rolled up to him, with a sad coo. Feeling strangely touched, Obi Wan lay his hand on Artoo’s domed head, mimicking a gesture he had seen Anakin do so many times in the past. Putting his hand exactly where Anakin’s had rested, almost felt like touching a part of him. Like Obi Wan could somehow bridge time and space, to grasp a remainder of his friend. His _brother._

Jay face hardened. “So that’s it then, is it? You are just going to leave?”

In absence of his beard, Obi Wan dragged a weary hand through his hair, the hood falling back to reveal his face. “I am sorry, but I have no other choice.”

“That’s just utter crap, and you know it!” Jay exclaimed, his face flushing an angry red, though he lowered his voice to a quiet hiss. “When I was young the _Jedi_ were peacekeepers! Protectors! And if there is anyone left in this damned galaxy worth protecting, its men like Bail Organa!”

Obi Wan let out a heavy sigh. Peacekeepers, was that what they had been? Lately all he seemed to remember was war. Battles. Endless sieges… All hard, every single one exhausting, able to crush the spirit of even the strongest of men. But now that the drums of war had finally stopped beating, and he was more prey than soldier, he found that there was something worse than war. To turn away. To stand by and let injustice occur. He had thought he was used to it by now, but he wasn’t.  Though it would be easier if he had been, he still prayed that day would never come when he was. When it no longer mattered. When nothing mattered. He met the angry gaze. “There is nothing I can do. I am truly sorry.”

Jay mouth formed a hard-thin line. And as Obi Wan turned away, he heard the quiet rebuke. The angry retort cutting him to his core.

“ _Coward_. Leave then, run away and hide. Just like the rest of _them_.”

With a sigh Obi Wan stopped in the doorway, looking down across the sun lit meadow, his gaze coming to rest on a single flower barely visible among the surrounding grass. One perfect bloom hidden in a sea of weeds. Perhaps he should just pluck it, he though absently. Offer it a clean death while it still remained that way. Untouched, unsullied. Instead of leaving it to a slow suffocation. A slow death. To the endless shadows, when the sun’s rays could no longer reach it.

“We didn’t leave,” he said, his voice a still whisper, betraying none of his grief. Still, he squeezed his eyes shut just briefly. Briefly, but still it was enough. Enough to see the bodies. To remember the eerie silence of the temple. As quiet as he had ever heard it. To quiet. Deathly quiet. _No,_ he thought _. We didn’t leave._ _We were slaughtered._ _Butchered…_ _Betrayed._ By Vader. By themselves.

 _“_ We didn’t leave,” he repeated, louder this time.  Abandoning the flower to its fate, he turned back, lifting his eyes, meeting that of the other man’s. “We were betrayed. We have no strength to stand against the Empire now.”

Jay took one step towards him, his anger fading as something akin to youthful hope, flickered across his dark features. Obi Wan truly wished he had some hope to greet him with in return, but the only hope he had, lived within two little children. Two children he would not risk for anything, or anyone. Even if it meant leaving a good man behind to die. Even if it meant leaving thousands. Even if meant leaving Padme _._ As much as it pained him, she had made her choice, her fate was her own.  If she even still lived, that was.

Something coiled inside his stomach. Hard and cold. More than anything he wished he could believe that Vader wouldn’t harm her. That there was one line even he wouldn’t cross. But Obi Wan already knew the ugly truth. He had seen it with his own eyes. In the end not even, Padme had been spared Vader’s fury. It had been in that moment, Obi Wan realised, when Anakin had lifted his hands to her, that he had truly given up on his old Padawan.  Anakin had loved Padme desperately, Obi Wan had always known that, though pretended not to notice. And the thought that he would ever harm her, so absurd, that even now Obi Wan had trouble believing it. But, Vader not Anakin, he quickly corrected himself, would harm anyone. _Anyone._  Obi Wan. Padme. _Even_ his own flesh and blood.

“But your still here,” Jay insisted, interrupting his maudlin thoughts.

Obi Wan looked away from Jay`s hopeful gaze. Not wanting to see the moment that hope shattered. He had already seen enough hopes crushed in his lifetime. Instead he permitted himself a touch through the force, past the tall grass, the crowd of lost refugees, and the disgruntled farmer fearing for their harvest. Past the Empires looming threat, towards the strongest source of light, he knew. The twins, so close he could feel them.  From them alone he drew hope.

“When they burned our lightsabers,” he said quietly. If he closed his eyes he could still see the bright blue column of light, the pyre lit at the stairs of their very own temple.  “The people cheered _.”_  A very unjedi like bitterness ran through him at the memory. He knew this, because he had seen the HoloNet recording. Almost everyone had, the Emperor had seen to that. Making sure it was broadcasted far and wide. So, the entire galaxy would know of their defeat.  Thousands of years of peace instantly gone up in smoke.  It had been gloating of course. But beyond that it had also been a promise. A promise to those Jedi still left alive; That o _ne day we will get you too._ _One day we will get you all._ A galaxy wide manhunt. And at the head of the charge, Vader.  Obi Wan felt like the flower now, slowly being suffocated by grief.

Jay moved closer. Obi Wan looked up, surprised to find that hope still lingered on Jays face. Not so easily vanquished in this one, it seemed.

“Not all of us,” Jay said solemnly. Obi Wan briefly thought the younger man would reach out and touch him, to offer sympathy. But he didn’t. Instead he spoke, his dark eyes intense, and sincere.  “Some of us wept. We didn’t believe in the Empire’s lies then. And we still don’t.”

It was an odd sort of comfort, he thought, as he stared at the young man in front of him. And he truly wished he had another answer to give, but he didn’t. “A warrior knows when it’s time to retreat and regroup. Our moment is _not_ now.” It was the only thing Obi Wan could think of to offer him. Though he knew it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

Jay took a disappointed step back. “But by then it will already be to late. “

Obi Wan didn’t apologise again. He did the only thing he could do, lowering his hood over his head, he turned and walked away. Jay said nothing more, but a soft coo followed in Obi Wan’s footsteps, as Anakin’s little droid took up pursuit. Loyal to the very end.

Back at the spaceport Obi Wan tried to sneak back into the ship, unnoticed. But to no avail. Leia was standing the corridor waiting for him, blocking the small passage way with her body, legs set wide. Offering him a scowl that could rival her father’s any day. It was so remnant of Anakin it made his heart ache. The excitement, the little sulk when things didn’t quite go her way. In that he saw Anakin. All Anakin. And it _hurt._

“I want my mummy!” she demanded, one small hand resting on her hip.

He crouched down in front of her, taking one small hand in his own. He couldn’t save his brother, he couldn’t save Padme, Bail or any of the others. But he could protect Anakin’s children. With his own life, if it came to it.

“I know you do Leia, but she isn’t here right now,” he told her softly, trying to comfort her as best he could. Her large brown eyes began filling with tears. Jedi detachment or no, he didn’t even hesitate, but picked her up, hugging her small trembling body close to his chest. Rocking her gently, he stroked her long brown hair. Leia hugged his neck tightly. Oblivious to what he done to her father. _Left him._ The words felt like a condemnation. A reminder of his own cowardice. His failure. Vader`s gut-wrenching screams of agony echoed through Obi Wan mind. Now and forever.

Leaning into Leia’s clutching embrace he closed his eyes. Just _once._ Just once he wished he had hugged her father like this. With no restraints. Not let Jedi detachment keep him away when Anakin had needed him the most. Though he doubted Yoda would approve of such thoughts, he somehow knew Qui Gon would have.

Suddenly the child in his arms squealed in delight, twisting free of his grip, as Artoo came cooing down the curved corridor behind them.  Artoo exploded into happy chatter, doing a little dance around the little girl, even as she tried to mount him laughing. All trace of grief instantly forgotten. A trait only given to the young, he thought. For the old could never forget. Never.

Luke quickly joined his sister’s squeals as he came running, grinning wildly when he spotted the droid. “Artoo.” He exclaimed in boyish delight, before he followed his sisters attempt to mount the droid, who stood patiently as they pulled at him. If Obi Wan didn’t know any better, he could have sworn that the droid adored the twins as much as they did it. But Artoo was just a machine. And machines could not feel. For a moment, Obi Wan envied them that oblivion.

 

* * *

 

 

Vader saw them, through the fog, through the long shadows cast from the closely packed buildings. Through the perpetual gloom that always lingered this far down into the bowels of Coruscant. He saw them. Aliens. Humans.

_Scum._

He kept to the shadows as he studied them. Loitering outside the club entrance, their drunken laughter echoed to him from across the street. Shrill and sharp.

 _Customers,_ no doubt.

Vader drew a deep breath through his clenched teeth, regretting it instantly, as his lungs began to fill with bile. But it wasn’t the damp night air, nor the smell that bothered him. It was the unending assault to his senses, pressing against him from every direction. A mixture of feelings that hung as heavily in the air, as the overlaying smell of garbage and decay.  The street practically reeked of it. Despair, crude excitement. Even desire. But above all those, fear and helplessness _._

 _Powerlessness_.

He blinked, as a foggy grime filled street for a moment transformed into one of sand and dust. But he quickly shook it off, focusing instead on the here and now.

 _Slavers_.  He had known of course, but not the sheer extent of it. Not here.  Not on Coruscant. On a core world. Beneath _his_ very feet

Steeping out from the shadows of a nearby building, he deliberately let the light from the few scattered streetlights illuminate his body as he headed straight for them. Instantly laughter faded into nothing. Words died on dry lips. Swaying on their feet the group of drunks huddled closer to each other. Vader scoffed beneath his breath as he passed them by. Safety in numbers was for the weak. An illusion as far as he was concerned. Relying on others only ever ended in betrayal.

In _pain._

But he hadn’t come all this way for petty criminals. Ignoring their drunken ramblings, he descended the rickety staircase that led down into the darkness. Two Gamorrean’s were guarding the entrance. They looked up as he emerged from the shadows at the bottom of the staircase, their large snouts sniffing the air, as if they were smelling something foul. Spotting him they began screeching something incoherent, waddling their heavy bodies in front of the door as if to block his entrance, brandishing their crude axes.

Vader curled his lip. Lifting one hand casually, he flung the pair into the wall above the door. A loud snapping sound followed, and they fell back down, crumbling into a heap. Their axes scattered to the ground, their infernal screeching finally at an end.

In front of him the door slid open, and loud music poured out into the night.  Pausing just inside the doorway, Vader looked around the overcrowded bar with disgust. It was dark, filled to the brim with lowlifes of all races. The mixture of emotion so much more potent here, then out on the street. They coalesced all around him. Lust mixed with fear and weariness. Admit it all, throbbing in the background, loneliness, and pain. 

With a sneer Vader pushed them all from his mind, as he made his way towards the bar, ignoring the silent whispers that followed in his wake. But mostly the crowd was too preoccupied to even notice him. Standing or sitting, they all leered with eager eyes, over at the row of small cages located at the far side of the room. Brightly lit, they were designed to draw the eye, to them and to their _content._ Row upon row of dancing twi’lek girls, swaying their half naked bodies in rhythm to the grating music.

A human bartender with yellow hair, busy washing the counter with a filthy rag, looked up at Vader beneath hooded eyes. He paused taking in Vader’s armour and mask with a lazy perusal. “And who are you supposed to be then?” he asked, arching a thin eyebrow.

“ _Lord Vader_ ,” Vader replied icily, feeling his agitation rise even further at the blatant insolence in the man’s voice.

The bartender began to cackle, stroking his narrow chin, beady black eyes glinting in amusement. “Well that’s rich,” he replied gasping, putting a hand to his chest, before offering a small mock bow.  “Well in that case, I am the _Emperor_.”

Ignoring the remark, Vader carefully unhooked his lightsaber, fondly studying the dark hilt. “I assume you are the _proprietor_.”

“I am,” the bartender replied, oblivious to the chill in Vader’s voice, his teeth flashing in a smug smile. “Anything specific you have in mind?” he grinned, casting a meaningful glance towards the cages _._ Before adding another mock bow.” Your _lordship_.”

Vader suppressed a violent urge to knock all his teeth out. “A twi’lek. Goes by the name of Asha,” he bit out through his clenched teeth.

Frowning the bartender kept cleaning the counter, “Hmm, a little vicious that one. Used only for dancing. After what happens the last _time...”_ Stroking his narrow jaw, he glanced up at Vader, unable to hide the greed reflected in his bloodshot eyes. “But you look like someone that can handle yourself. I am sure we can make out a deal. At a fair price...”

_Prize._

The voice inside his head hissed violently, as the word reverberated inside his skull. Jaw clenched he drew a deep breath, closing his eyes. Around him the smell of arousal mixed with shame grew suffocating. Red-hot rage sparked to life inside his chest, battering violently against the fragile restraints he held over himself.  The ones he had put there for Padme’s sake. To keep her safe. But now he felt them crumbling, waver, and die. The infringing darkness echoed of the walls, whispering promises of liberation, of revenge. He stood still, so very still, breathing in the familiar rage. His only true companion in the darkness.

He opened his eyes, narrowing them. “I think you misunderstand me, “he hissed darkly. Igniting his lightsaber, he leaned forward, looming over the much smaller man. “I do not intend to _pay_.”

Not for anything.

Not for _anyone._ Not ever.

At the sight of the red saber, the bartenders smug smile withered and died on his thin lips. Across the floor, the twi’lek dancers had stopped mid motion, and were now pressing their faces curiously to the cage bars. Curious, but not frightened. Not yet. But a waitress close enough to see him clearly, froze in fright, dropped her tray, sending several bottles of some brightly coloured liquor crashing to the floor, before she turned on her heels and fled. 

Behind him Vader could hear the scurry of running feet, the scraping of chairs against the floor, as panic began to spread throughout the room. Close by someone whispered his name. Uttering it as if he was some frightening deity, sent down to from above to offer punishment. He leaned his free hand on the bar, baring his teeth in a feral smile. Maybe, just maybe tonight, he _was_.

The bartender’s dirty rag dropped from his limp hand, as he stared at the red shimmering blade in Vader’s hand, then up at Vader’s black expressionless mask. Vader almost smiled. The man’s palpable terror felt like a rush. So, small and inconsequential he was now. So very _afraid._ When _he_ was the one cornered and trapped. When _he_ was the one in a _cage._

“It really is _you,_ isn’t it” he whimpered, taking a step backwards, his bloodshot eyes widening in terror.

Vader leaned a little closer, reaching out for the bartender with one gloved hand, but before he could grab him, he was interrupted. As a squad of heavily armed guards pushed through the crowd. Disappointed Vader dropped his hand and turned to the guards. No matter, he would deal with them quickly enough.

Spreading out, they tried to hem him in. Vader remained completely still, as they encircled him, his body humming in anticipation.  As predictably stupid as ever, one of the gamorrean’s charged at him, axe held high. But Vader easily dodged the clumsy blow, the axe instead imbedding itself in the bar. Turning Vader decapitated the fool from behind with one clean cut.

A scream cut through the air, as the head rolled across the floor, coming to halt beside a still occupied table, tusks still twitching.  Panic turned to a frenzy, a mindless stampede headed for the exits, not caring who they trampled to get away. There was a flash of bright light as someone shot at him, but he easily deflected the bolts back into the crowd, felling some of the fleeing customers. Shrieks of pain and terror erupted everywhere. But by now he was too consumed by the urge to kill to truly hear it. Carried along of by the current of the dark power writhing inside of him, he didn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. Serves them right, he thought. For it was not so much fun to be the participant, and not the spectator, now was it? The one in the cage. The one lying on a dusty floor. Being abused. Kicked. Beaten. _Sold._

Vader sneered low in his throat, as the remaining guards who hadn’t already fled, made another desperate push towards him. He lifted his free hand; shattered pieces of glass rising in to the air. Spreading his fingers, he sent the fragments flying outwards, imbedding them in soft skin. Unprotected flesh. The guards howled, clawing at their injuries. Vader lunged forward, his lightsaber flashing in an angry red arch, as they all fell before him. Like nothing. Like no one.

His nostrils flared. It smelled like death now. Intoxicating darkness. Fear. Fire. Agony. Seared flesh. He could feel the white-hot fury pumping through his veins. Humans, or aliens, it didn’t matter. With every swing, with every thrust, his fury only intensified. Grew.  These slavers deserved far worse than a quick death. They deserved to suffer. To die slowly, screaming in agony. And he would kill them. He would kill them _all_!

Behind the bar, the bartender finally unfroze, sensing an opportunity to escape.  Vader spun around, holding his hand out he pulled him back, through the air, and over the dirty counter, straight into his waiting grip. He squeezed. Slowly. Tightly. Feeling the man’s low gurgle as he gasped for air. Felt small bones break, shatter. Revelled in watching the light fade from bloodshot eyes. Eyes that took pleasure in the misery of others.  That cared for nothing, or no one, besides _themselves._

Breathing heavily, his chest tightened as disgust travelled through what remained of his flesh. Revolted he tossed the body as far away from himself as he possible could. But it wasn’t far enough. Nowhere was far enough. Not anymore.

The body hit another guard frantically trying to rush past. No longer trying to fight but running headlong for safety. But it was far too late for that, he fell backwards onto his back, unable to move beneath the heavy weight of his dead comrade. Blood roaring in his ears, Vader walked over to him, his saber clutched in his grip. The heavyset man cried out, lifted a muscly arm to his face, desperately pleading for mercy in a language Vader did not understand, though their meaning was clear. He smiled darkly. Mercy. Compassion. It was for the weak. And he was not weak.  With one final satisfying downward thrust, there was silence.

Only silence.

Drawing a deep breath, Vader looked up from the carnage, staring absently around the now almost deserted bar. Tables and chairs were upturned, smashed glasses and bodies littered the floor. The music had stopped.  The only sound breaking the silence, were the moans from the injured and the dying.

At each moment, each second, as he had cut his way through the dwindling guards, or anyone else who dared stand in his way, he had kept a steady eye on his prize. The cages. This close, he could hear sobbing, smell fear. Women, even some men, lay huddled on the floor of their cages wearing very little. Some nothing at all.

With a sneer, he lifted one hand, twisting his fist sideways. With a resounding pop, the cage doors burst open. But no one moved. One step away from freedom, and they still hesitated. Such cowardice. He loathed it, he loathed their weakness. Didn’t they understand? Freedom was not a gift to be granted. Freedom had to be _taken_.

A few of them gazed up at him with jaded expressions as he moved closer, seeming indifferent to their fate. Others refused look at him at all. Whimpering they rocked back and forth of the floor of their cages, covering their heads with shaky hands. They looked like frightened animals, he thought with disgust. Like _cattle_ awaiting slaughter _._ His nostrils flared. This close, the stink, a combination of sweat and lust, and terror was overwhelming.

Deactivating the saber, he looked down at the cowering twi’lek in the cage nearest to him. Noticing his regard, she huddled closer in on herself, trying to shrink as far away from him as she possible could, within the confinement of her small cage. But she had nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. Nothing to hide behind, barely even clothes. When her back hit the cage bars opposite the open door where he stood watching, she let out a weak pathetic whimper, her thin body trembling like a leaf.

As if frozen, his feet stopped dead beneath him at the sound of that pathetic little squeak. The arm about to drag her to her feet dropped limply back to his side, stopped by a single thought. A single sound. His anger had wiped away everything, every rational thought but one; victory.  The total annihilation of his enemies. Yet something else remained, even now. Even through the haze of red, Padme’s beautiful face flashed before his eyes, brought into focus by that soft feminine whimper. With it her terror, her _pain._  His own pain, his emptiness. His _guilt._ Blinking rapidly, he felt his vision begin to clear, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

 “Which one of you is Asha?” he asked the twi’lek then, when he had sufficiently collected himself. Still, all that met his question was more silence. He swallowed his annoyance, trying for calm, but failing miserably. “Do not make me lose my patience,” he said darkly, turning instead to the vast, and suddenly very quiet room. Even the groans and whimpers had stopped at the sound of his voice. “And for your own sake, I _suggest_ you do not make me have to find you. For make no mistake, _I_ will find you.”

At his threat, a blue skinned twi’lek sitting on the floor of one of the cages furthest away from him, slowly lifted her head. Holding on to the cage bars, she pulled herself upright, turning to face him, displaying her bare chest. “I am Asha, “she replied thinly, her delicate hands clutching the bars in a death grip. Chest rising and fall rapidly, she made no move towards the door. Fearing him more than slavery. He did not dwell on that, would _not_ dwell on that. For it did not matter. Not to him.

Abandoning the cage, he was standing by, he approached her. A cloak left behind in the chaos hung over a nearby chair, using the force he tossed it towards her. It landed in a heap just below her cage. Swallowing hard, she eyed it cautiously.

“Put it on,” he demanded. When she still didn’t move, he took a step closer. He had no more time to waste on this nonsense. “Now!”

At his harsh tone, she finally let go of the bars and staggered from the cage, wrapping the cloak around her shoulders with shaking fingers. When she was done, she eyed him warily, like a cornered animal. Too frightened to even bolt.

Not even when he took another step towards her did she move. This close the thick silver collar around her neck stood out like an eyesore. There was no chain. There was no need for one. With one single push, an electric current would immobilise the wearer. Taking away choice. Taking away _freedom._

He lifted one hand toward her neck, curling his fingers, the metal bending beneath his will. Her eyes widened. She gasped clutching at her throat, as the collar shattered. With an angry pull at odds with her fear, she finished the job. Tearing it off and throwing it away, her lips curled in disgust.

 “Follow me,” he told her simply, before he turned away from her, making his way back towards the exit, ignoring the bodies of both the living and dead alike, having momentarily lost his appetite for destruction.

They crossed the street together in silence, the twi’lek trailing somewhere behind him. He led her down the alleyway to where he had hidden his speeder, feeling her fear grow with every step into the crushing darkness. He looked down, to avoid stepping in the garbage that littered the street, at least that was what he told himself.  He felt _odd._ Though the rage had receded slightly for the moment, he should still feel triumphant. Full of the thrill of victory. Yet all he felt, was strangely hollow. Empty.

He caught the twi’lek watching him through the darkness, biting her lips nervously. When she noticed him staring back, she instantly lowered her head submissively, as if she had been a slave all her life. But according to his reports she hadn’t been. A quick study then, he thought. To many slavers loved the struggling ones. The ones that made a fuss. It was more fun that way.

“Get in,” he snapped. Startled she jumped to obey him, quickly crawling inside the speeder. He settled himself in beside her, and with an abrupt motion sent them soaring up past the tall buildings, at a breakneck speed.  The speeder whining unhappily from the strain, as they headed up through the large ventilation shaft that led to the planet surface. But he didn’t slow down until he could once again see the stars glittering high above them, barely visible through the night traffic.

Pulling the cloak tighter about herself, the twi’lek kept staring out the window, trying her best to ignore him. Which suited him just fine. When he pushed a button on the panel by his leg, she flinched, pushing even further up against the door. Yet despite her evident fear, her voice was surprisingly clear, business like even, when she finally spoke. Her bravery was enough to make him glance at her. At least now, he knew where the child got her foolhardy fearlessness from.

“I will do whatever you wish of me,” she said quietly, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the window, one hand tearing nervously at the threadbare cloak. Turning her head, her dull eyes met his mask. “But I _beg_ of you, _please_ don’t kill me.”

He didn’t bother to answer.

She swallowed uncomfortably at his stony silence. “I have a young daughter, she needs me.” Her voice had begun to quaver slightly. Lifting a trembling hand, she lowered the cloak a fraction, exposing more of her pale blue skin.

He stared at her blankly. It took him a while to get her meaning, the utter absurdity of it all. When realisation finally dawned, he almost let out a bitter laugh. What need did he have for a _whore_? He who couldn’t even breathe on his own, let alone do anything else. And even if he could have, to him there was only Padme. Only her.

 _But she doesn’t want you._ The voice whispered cruelly.

His glove slipped on the steering, his human palm sweaty against the leather, as an ache like a blade cut through his ribs. Painful and deep. He thought about his own shadow in the mirror then, the pale face hidden beneath it all. No, she didn’t want _that._ No one would want _that._

Keeping his eyes firmly on the busy traffic, he drove the strange sensation of hurt away. _“_ Would you _die_?” Was the question he heard himself ask. Tinged with cruelty and spite. Deliberately designed to frighten, to intimidate.

And it worked. The twi’lek visibly flinched, quickly wrapping herself back up in her cloak. Yet strangely enough, when she looked up again, steel bled into her eyes and she lifted her chin.

“For my daughter?” she shook her head slightly, as if the question itself was absurd, the answer obvious. “If you had ever been blessed with a child my lord, you would already know the answer to that question.”

 _Blessed._ Vader blinked at an upcoming commercial sign. Glittering on the horizon, the sharp light penetrated his visor. Bringing with it, the memories from the past. Words. Distant words. His words. His _joy._ It had been joy hadn’t It? He didn’t know. He could barely remember what joy felt like anymore.

_Our baby is a blessing._

The moment of distraction was enough to set him off course. He swerved the speeder to the side, barely missing the top of a tall building, the rapid turn throwing the twi’lek against the door with a loud shriek. But his thoughts were not with her, but with a boy. A blond one, he knew that much because Padme had told him so.  A little one. A wanted one.

_My son._

He gritted his teeth, quickly regaining control of the speeder as well as himself. He would not do this, he would not go there. He _couldn’t._

After that he didn’t speak another word to the infernal twi’lek. He had already said enough, more than he ever should have. When his tower at last appeared on the horizon, he felt relieved. The twi’lek however, began muttering to herself, as if in prayer. To some goddess or other, but there were no gods, only the force. And it would not help _her._

Landing on his personal landing platform, he ushered her from the speeder. She walked a head of him, casting uncertain glances back at him with every other step. Agitated he lengthened his strides, deliberately breathing down her neck. With a nervous squeak, she sped up as he pushed her down the corridor in the direction of Padme’s room. He was going to deposit the accursed twi’lek directly at Padme’s feet! That’s what he was going to do. Let her have her damned prize, for all it was worth to her!

With a hard push, he pressed the release by her bedroom door. The door slid open quietly, but instead of pushing the twi’lek inside as he had initially planned, he halted, for the second time that night hesitating. Dark curls spread across her pillow, Padme lay sprawled across the bed, fast asleep. As he stood watching he felt something inside him give way, the strange hollowness inside slowly filling with warmth, with what he vaguely recognised as tenderness.

When the beams of light, from the open door reached her face, she stirred. He spun back so fast he nearly knocked over the twi’lek. She let out another screech. He whirled on her, clapping a gloved hand over her mouth, muffling her cry.

“If you wake her, I will give you a real reason to scream,” he hissed, lowering his dark voice as far as it would go. Because suddenly it had become the most important thing in the world that Padme didn’t wake. The twi’lek froze beneath his steely grip. It looked like she had locked her jaw, so tightly did she clench it, silent tears trailing down her blue cheeks. Inside Padme made a sleepy sound, that tugged at him. He gazed longingly over at her, to where her head peaked out from her covers, safe and warm.

Beneath his hand the twi’lek twitched, drawing his attention back to his harsh grip around her slender jaw. To where his black hand engulfed her lower face. And he found himself staring down into her tearstained face. She was young, he realised. Perhaps a few years younger than him. And pretty in that sort of twi’lek way, though it had never been his thing. Full lips, and a round face. But this close, what stood out the most, were her large eyes. Glistening with tears, they were a deep dark amber colour. Just like _hers,_ just like Padme’s.

Pity, compassion.

_Weakness._

Involuntarily he slackened his grip. Taking a disgusted step back, he pushed her away from him, glaring at her from beneath his mask. Now what? he thought angrily, supressing a desire to pace.  What was he supposed to do with her now?  He had already seen more of her than he had ever wished, and he was already regretted bringing her here.  What he should have done, was to tell Padme _no_ , and let that be the end of it! He chewed hard on his lip, for there was nothing he could do about it now. Except killing her that was, and that wouldn’t do.

Keeping at an arm’s length from the loathsome twi'lek, he ordered her to follow, as he strode back up the corridor in the direction they had come from. For there was only one place he could take her now. Opening the door to Alden’s small chamber, he indicated for the twi’lek to enter with a harsh movement of his hand, finding himself strangely reluctant to touch her again.

Luckily the Captain was still awake, uniform in disarray he sat by his desk, head bent, resting his forehead in his hands. Startled he looked up at the unexpected intrusion, but when he saw who it was, he didn’t hesitate. Stumbling from his desk, he caught his wife in one smooth motion, hugging her tightly to his chest. Eyeing Vader in confusion, marred with concern when he saw just how frightened she was. The twi’lek woman began to sob silently into her husband’s shoulder.  A guttural primitive cry at first, but as Alden stroked her back, whispering to her softly, she quieted.

At first, Vader though she was still weeping, but when he looked up, he found himself looking into the face of pure joy and flinched. Taking a step back, he pursed his lips. What was he doing? He didn’t want them here. He wanted to toss them out. Toss them of the tower roof if need be. Yet, he calmed himself. Letting reason dictate his actions. Not his disdain. He already knew why, he needed someone who’s loyalty could not be questioned. And over them, his power was now complete. Their love for each other, and their child, all but assured it.

He folded his arms in front of his chest impatiently. “You both serve my wife now,” he told them. They both startled, immediately separating from their tight embrace. Yet even separated, their hands reached out for each other, fingers linking.  Vader ignored the show of affection, the unexpected stab of jealousy in his gut, focusing instead on their faces. “If any harm comes to her, there will be no more mercy. Do not fail me in this.” He levelled a finger at them. “Your child remains safe for now, that she stays that way however, is all up to _you_ …” 

The twi’lek stared back at Vader in shock. Before sending her husband a hopefully look. “Is she… is she here?”

“Close,” Alden murmured softly, clearly doing his best to supress a smile.

His wife had no such reservations however.  A brilliant smile spread across her lips, wiping away any trace of her earlier fear. Vader stiffened. Some of his rage returning. Such joy didn’t belong here. He hated it. He hated _them._ When the twi’lek once again threw herself around her husband’s neck– forgetting momentarily, or perhaps not caring, that she did so before someone like _him_ – Vader slammed his palm hard on the doorframe.

Once again, they flew apart. The rapid movement causing the cloak to fall from the twi’lek slender shoulders, but she didn’t seem to care it exposed her breasts. Instead she looked on the man who had all but abandoned her, to slavery, to debauchery, with such utter devotion, with such pure love, that Vader looked away beneath his mask. But they couldn’t see that. All they saw was two dark empty eye sockets fixed on them. Love. Loyalty.

_Forgiveness_

Vader turned to leave.

“You did it,” a soft voice, spoke from behind him. Padme was standing in the corridor, as if he had somehow summoned her with his thoughts, with his longing. He turned to her slowly, helpless to do otherwise. She was dressed in a plain white nightdress, a thick shawl tucked around her shoulders. Though she had slept, she still looked exhausted, deep dark circles shadowing her eyes. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.

Lifting her head, she smiled at him. “Thank you.”

His body did a jolt in surprise. For a moment he wondered if she was smiling at the twi’lek, or perhaps even at Alden. He stiffened. If _that_ was the case, he would kill the man regardless of Padme’s fervent _objections._ But no. A small peek across his shoulder, and he could see that Alden had not left his room. He was busy wrapping his wife in his uniform jacket, gazing at her reverently. Still suspicious Vader turned back to Padme.

The soft smile tugging at her lips, made her look more like the Padme he remembered. Not this new angrier version of her he barely recognized. It was pleasant. It made her dark eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. And it did look like a _genuine_ smile _._ Though if this was some elaborate manipulation or the real deal he was uncertain. He frowned. Torn between wanting to stare at her, and look away from the vibrant, intoxicating power of her smile, he found himself looking down at her feet.

“Go back to sleep,” he ordered her gruffly. Blatantly ignoring his command, she came to stand beside him, peering past him into Alden’s room. Then she smiled again, as slow gentle curve of her mouth. He stared down at the top of her head suspiciously, though she didn’t seem to notice his tense stance. When she lifted her head to look at him, the was something soft in her gaze. Almost tender.

She slowly extended her hand. He held his breath, thinking, hoping, she would reach out and touch him. Though to his disappointment, she reached past him, pressing the door release softly, shutting Alden in with his wife. But before the door closed fully, Vader caught a last glimpse of the pair clinging to each other. Desperately. Fiercely, like every single touch was their very last. Touch. Warmth. Laughter. Joy. He was wrong, he _did_ remember those feelings. After months of being apart, the raw intensity of each touch, each kiss. The feel of Padme’s naked skin pressed against his own. 

A pang of something akin to grief clutched at his dead heart. Licking his dry lips, he looked down into her upturned face. She was staring at him intently, a wistful expression on her beautiful face. When she saw he had noticed, she dropped her gaze, clearing her throat.

“Come,” she told him, abruptly taking a step back, increasing the distance between them. “Let’s give them some time alone. Alden told me that there is a small roof terrace above. And I wouldn’t mind some fresh air. Will you take me there?”

Though he was surprised at the request, he nodded. Slowing his pace so she would not strain herself, he led her up a set of steep stairs at the end of the hallway, and onto the small balcony. It was located almost at the top of the tower spire, offering a view of Coruscant, and the Imperial palace far off in the distance. Bright colours were appearing on the horizon, as the first streaks of dawn quickly approached. Empire Day.  The day so long ago, when it had all begun. No, he stared after Padme as she walked ahead. At her long curls hanging loosely down her back. No. Not when it had begun. When it had _ended._

Walking over to the wall circling the roof, she rested her hands on it. Though she still looked tired, she smiled slightly, breathing in the early morning air.

He went to stand beside her. “You _should_ be sleeping,” he told her sternly.

“So, _should_ you,” she retorted, arching a dark eyebrow up at him.

“I had business to attend to. _Yours_ , if you don’t recall. “

The smile vanished, her teeth caught at her bottom lip. She looked away from him, down at her pale fingers, picking nervously her fingernails. “Did you kill anyone?” she asked very quietly.

When he made no reply, her shoulders slumped. She looked crushed. Hurt. As if he had somehow hurt _her._ Not some irrelevant stranger, that deserved far worse than a quick death. Frowning, he resisted the temptation to reach out and touch her. To offer a comfort he knew she would reject. Lifting her head, she stared stiffly out in front of her, not saying another word. No word of displeasure. No shouted condemnation.  Yet why that somehow felt worse he couldn’t say. Suddenly agitated, he drew a harsh breath, breaking the silence himself, not even knowing why he felt the need to justify himself.

“Some people deserve to _die_ , “he told her then. Because that part was true. Those people, those _vermin_ , they had no purpose, no order. All they had was their own greed and need for self-satisfaction.

The gentle wind played with one of her curls.  She pushed it out the way of her eyes, revealing them to him. Dark and conflicted. But something else was hidden in their depths. Something he dared not identify.

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “But who are we to decide that? Laws exist for a reason Anakin. To protect the victims, even the perpetrator. But also, to protect us from _ourselves_.”

He stiffened. Laying a gloved hand on top of the wall, next to hers. Close, but not close enough to touch, his fingers tapped the surface. “You mean the laws that only protect those fortunate? The wealthy? You mean _those?”_ he snapped. Where had those laws been when he had needed them? When his mother had?

Padme’s head snapped up at his angry tone, and it looked like she was preparing a scathing retort of her own, but she didn’t. For some reason she held back, her expression softening, and briefly he thought he saw understanding there. Sliding her hand sideways she touched him. Laying her hand atop his, stopping his tapping fingers.  Her delicate hand looked so small in comparison to his. So fragile. So easily broken. He held his breath, some of his anger evaporating. The rage shying away from her touch, as if repelled by it.

She looked up at him steadily, her eyes warm in the rising sun. They were honest. Perfect in every way. “I am sorry,” she began, surprising him so much he almost pulled away. “I am sorry for what happened to you. I am sorry you suffered. I am sorry there was no one there to protect you when you needed it the most. But Anakin…” She took another step closer, squeezing his hand lightly. “Just because you hurt, that doesn’t give you the right to hurt others.” She shook her head slightly, as if admonishing herself. For what he had no idea. “It doesn’t give _any_ of us that right. No matter the reason.”

This time he did pull away, but even as he did, he regretted his actions. Her face fell, and she looked almost hurt he had rejected her touch. Something that sparked something resembling hope within him, but still it wasn’t enough. Stubbornly he folded his arms protectively across his chest with a scoff. “Please tell me this isn’t the sort of thing you tell our son?”

 “I don’t need to,” she said sharply, letting her hand drop. “You son is a gentle spirit by nature Anakin. “She followed his retreat, challenge glittering in her eyes. “In fact, he reminds me of a boy a met on Tatooine once. A kind one. One that was brave enough to help others. Despite his hurt, despite all the hardships he had suffered.”

He looked away. “I told you once before. That _boy_ is dead.” Killed by his own weakness, although he didn’t say that part out loud. Though he would make sure, even if she didn’t, that their son did not suffer the same fate.

Padme looked like she was about to say something more but then decided against it. Instead she let out a tired sigh, turning from him she leaned her elbows on the top of the wall, resting her head in her hands, rubbing her temples in a tired motion. His senses went alert in an instant. Carefully he reached out with the force, feeling for the strands of power pulling around her like a vortex. It still held if a little weak. He frowned. She felt weak and fragile, and he urged to dig deeper. Though he dared not touch her with his power any further, fearing it would hurt her again.  Make her shy away. Make her fear him even more than she already did.

“Please let’s not argue any more, not right now. I am too tired for it,” she said finally, having apparently not noticed.

He didn’t protest, instead he followed her gaze, she was staring over at the spires of the Imperial Palace. Rising above the rest, it drew the eye. The rising sun shading its tall towers in crimson.

“What will he do, you think?” she asked after a quiet pause.

“What he always does,” he replied feeling suddenly very tired. Maybe she was right, he did need some sleep. Sometimes it felt like he hadn’t slept in decades. Ever since…

He shifted a little on his feet. He knew what Sidious would do. Divide and conquer. Tear apart. For a moment he imagined smoke rising from the towers in the distance. Like it had done all those years ago, but when he blinked it was gone, nothing but sunlight remaining, silhouetting the spires against the rising dawn, the light flickered across his mask.

Padme nodded, she understood, like he had known she would. “And Luke, does he know?”

 “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “But it’s best to work from the assumption that he does. It always is.” He was unable to prevent bitterness from seeping into his words.

Padme bent her head, he could almost sense her worry, her fear. He did touch her then, deciding to try again. To make her give him freely what he didn’t want to take by force. Gently he took her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. “Padme, that is why it’s so important that you tell me where our son is. So, I can find him before he does.”

Instead of outright rejection, she regarded him steadily, eyes unflinching. He liked that. Liked her bravery, he always had.

“Tell me something…” she said, after a while, “If you had your wish, and found our child, what would you do with him?”

He frowned at the question. “ _Do_ with him?”

“You heard me,” she bit back. “What would a _lord of the sith_ do with a four-year-old child?” There was slightly dangerous glint in her dark eyes. And he had not missed the thinly veiled insult, the way she spat out his title.  It sounded wrong coming from her lips. Unwanted. She made an agitated gesture with her hand.

“What would you do with a little boy whose greatest interest, is playing with model starfighters, and go swimming in the lake?  A little boy who ask a million questions a day, I don’t have the answers to.” Her momentum faltered, and she hesitated. Grief straining her features. Biting her lip, she looked down at her slippers.

“I look them up you know. The answers…” she said quietly, “Because he asks questions I know you would know the answers to. So, I look them up. Trying desperately to be his mother _and_ his father.” She kicked angrily at the floor. “But I can’t be. I can never fill your shoes. So, I try to give him as much of you as I have left in me.”

His grip tightened around her slender shoulders reflexively. _Everything._   _You have everything. You always did._   _“_ Tell me Padme.”

She bit her lip. Her voice barely a whisper over the gentle breeze. “ _I can’t_.”

Agitated that she still doubted him, he began to turn away. But she stopped him with a gentle hand on his elbow. “You misunderstand me. Even if I wanted to, _I can’t._ Because I don’t exactly know.” She hesitated. “Not precisely that is. So, if I got captured, I would not be able to reveal his specific location. Not even under torture.”

He almost recoiled at that. Torture? Was that still what she believed he would do to her? All this years apart and that was what he had left her with? He wanted to deny it, yet he remained silent. The voice hissed. Scolded viciously. _Why shouldn’t she believe it? You almost did worse. You almost killed her!_

So, he didn’t utter the denial he so wanted to speak. That he would never torture her. Never. That he would never lay a hand on her. For it wasn’t true. They both knew it wasn’t true. And he was so very tired of lies. Turning back to face her, he brushed his knuckles across her cheek, tucking away another wayward curl, hoping she could feel the promise in his touch. That never. Never again. Though she still looked weary and fearful, she didn't shrink away from his caress, instead she rubbed her cheek into his glove. The gesture made his body froze beneath him, as if he was no longer partly flesh, but all of him cold unyielding metal. Not dead but not truly alive either.

She lay her hand atop his, pressing it harder into her cheek, her dark eyes holding him captivated. There was a plea there. A question. A fragile hope. A fragile hope in _him_.

“If we look for him now, we could very well be the reason Palpatine finds him in the first place,” she said cautiously.

His thumb caressed her cheekbone. And staring into her eyes, he found he couldn’t crush it. That hope.

 _We…_ she had said. Not you. Not I _._ But _we_

That, beyond the fact he knew she was right, granted his acquiescence. A part of him had known of course, If not for that fact, he would already have torn up the galaxy to find the boy. But at least for now, with the Emperor’s eyes focused so intensely upon them, it was unsafe.  For now, he didn’t know what to do. Or whom to trust. Yet right now, there was something he _had_ to do. Something the voice inside him had been screaming at him to do, since he had left the slavers den. Padme blinked up at him showing the faint trace of unshed tears. Though faint, he felt her pain. It seeped beneath his skin burning like an ache.

Feeling suddenly off balance, he blinked down at her. When the dust had settled, he didn’t remember the violence, the death. He remembered bright lights. Cages. Frightened women. He remembered dark eyes. He remembered _her._ Only her. Frightened. Frightened of _him._ He bent his head, not wanting to meet those eyes, the motion making him look down on her, too far away now to reach.

A gust of early morning wind brushed against his cape, and he felt her tremble beneath his hand. Her shawl had fallen from her shoulders, exposing her cuffs. The sun caught one, making it glimmer like a silver brand. Like a _collar._ Property, chattel.

_Slave._

He dropped his hand apruptly. His armour felt suddenly tight. As repulsed by him, as he was of himself. Reaching out he caught her hand instead, glove sliding up her fingers, he stroked her slender wrist. Though he would never let her go, never let her leave him, he felt his thumb press down on the cuff. It came undone in an instant. Clattering to the ground between them. Very soon the other one followed. As if burned he took a step back letting his hands fall.

Padme’s lips parted in a shock equal to his own. Bending her head, her long loose curls falling into her face, she stared down at the cuffs now laying broken by their feet, but Vader didn’t look at them, or at her. Instead he took the opportunity to leave. To escape.

 

 


End file.
